


Stiles Stella Stilinski (Or Finding Out Who You Really Are)

by Goldenpetal13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BUCKETS OF ANGST, Bigender, F/M, Genderqueer, M/M, Trans Character, very slow build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 125,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenpetal13/pseuds/Goldenpetal13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after season 2, ignores any and all season 3, Stiles has ignored part of himself for so long and as he ends up abandoned by everyone he can’t ignore it any longer, but maybe that’s a good thing, oh and a certain creeper wolf keeps crawling through his window.<br/>Reposted because the idiot author deleted it by mistake - d'oh</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OMG - I posted something to the wrong chapter pressed a button to undo and then lost the lot, sorry author fail happened :( *headdesk* I can't even remember how I tagged this last time.
> 
> Rated M
> 
> Warnings: Angst, Trans!Stiles, BiGender, Two-Spirit, Stiles!Stella, Crossdressing (But not really), Gender Identity Issues, Mentions suicide, a tad bit depressing in places (you have been warned)
> 
> Don’t like don’t read, though constructive criticism is always welcome (plus any reviews). 
> 
> I own nothing, literally.

Parking up my jeep I drag myself from her and sling my bag over my shoulder, I stare up at my house and notice that dad’s cruiser isn’t there, no big surprise.

 

Letting myself in I don’t bother putting on any of the lights and navigate through the house and up the stairs in the dark, maybe then I can pretend I’m not all alone.

 

In my room I do flick the lights on, and nothings changed, just like it never does, like it hasn’t since the first month of my junior year and now tonight’s the Winter Formal.  I have no one to go with and no one would talk to me if I went stag.

 

Making sure my window is locked I pull the blind and fall back onto my bed.

 

I can’t believe Scott’s being such a dick over this, I refuse to apologise to Allison, it’s not my fault her psychotic grandpa dragged me into their basement to beat the crap out of me, so I think it’s unfair of them to expect me to be happy when I went over to hang out with them there, just because they’ve gotten back together and make out all the time doesn’t mean I want to watch them stick their tongues down each other’s throats, especially not in that house.

 

Sighing I roll over and wince as my bruises pull.

 

He’s not spoken to me except to ask if I’m ready to apologise, so far I’ve said no, so that’s that then.

 

I’ve also finally met someone who’s a bigger dick than Jackson, Trent is a new kid and because of him I got kicked off of the lacrosse squad, he’s the new bright star and he hates me.  My bruises are courtesy of him and his two cronies who like slamming me into lockers.

 

Jackson and Lydia are sickeningly into each other and still rule the school through a mixture of being too pretty, fear, and ruthlessly climbing to the top of the social pile.

 

Derek and his puppies are all avoiding me because I’m part of Scott’s pack, which is weird because I’ve been kicked out of his pack, except Derek’s trust issues have him thinking it’s all a trick.

 

I wish it was a trick.

 

But at least it means I don’t have to be around Peter and have him stare at me in that creepy way, or have him send me compliments and mention how he ‘likes me’.

 

Getting up I pace downstairs and into the kitchen, I dig around for some food, I don’t bother cooking, I hate cooking for one.  Dad won’t be back until stupid o’clock and then he’ll roll back out at ass o’clock in the morning.  It’s his way of dealing with me since all the crap from last school year.  We’re getting around it by him ignoring me.

 

I can’t find anything I really want to eat and my stomach is in knots so I don’t bother eating.

 

Collapsing in the living room I channel surf and we have what feels like a trillion channels and nothing on any of them.  The radio’s a bust too, the local station keeps harping on about the dance tonight.

 

Stuck with my own thoughts I know the lacrosse team has been let off practice this afternoon, which only reminds me that once I’d lost lacrosse I tried out every single club in the damn high school, I’d even broken down and tried chemistry club with Mr Harris, and the exploding incident has only cemented his hatred of me.  I never lasted longer than a week in any of them before I was shown the door.  I’m going down as the most disliked student in the history of Beacon Hills.

 

Turning off the radio the silence becomes oppressive. Because I can’t hide from myself so easily.

 

In the quiet, in the dark, alone, I have that thought again, the one I try to pretend doesn’t exist, the part of me I try and deny is even there.  When Scott was around I could ignore it, I could drown it out with Stiles, I could be so busy being Stiles, being male, being masculine that it was only a whisper.  But right now the whisper is really loud, the part of me that is female, feminine and liked Lydia because of the pretty things she wore is shouting for attention.

 

I last a whole five seconds and then I’m locking up the house, dad won’t be back until late and there is no one else in my pathetic empty life. I check every lock, then I steal upstairs and check all the windows and locks.  Every curtain is pulled and then I go for a shower, a long shower, afterwards I use the unscented body lotion, and with werewolves around I make sure its extra unscented, I can’t let a stray sniff betray me, they’d never understand.

 

When the lotion is rubbed in and my skin feels softer, I wrap a towel around my waist and sneak to my room, rummaging in my closet I take the bag out, and I grab a coat hanger then I sneak back locking the bathroom door behind me.

 

The bathroom is the only place with a decent mirror in it.

 

With trembling hands I reverently and gently take the dress and panties from the bag and wince when I see the creases on the dress.  Its a simple cream dress with a cream bow that does up around the middle.  I got it three towns over and in a sale, the assistants gave me a weird look but seemed to believe me when I said it was for my girlfriend, and I asked if I could have a receipt in case she didn’t like it and I had to return it.

 

The plain cotton cream panties were harder to get my hands on without my dad finding out, but I did it.

 

Slipping the panties on I slide them up my far too hairy legs, it’s moments like this I wish I had Jackson’s blond hair, then my legs wouldn’t show so much.  Tucking my dick into the panties I’m unhappy with the bulge, I’m male most of the time so getting rid of it isn’t an option, I’m going to have to learn how to do it properly so it doesn’t show.

 

Unzipping the back of the dress I hook the coat hanger onto the zip and then step into the material puddled on the floor, shimmying it up and over my hips I put my arms in the thick shoulder straps, then I awkwardly twist about to grab the coat hanger and I can do the dress up, a handy tip I found on the internet.

 

Taking the coat hanger off again, I fiddle with the dress until it’s sitting just right and the bow is tied around my waist. Now I can breathe out a much softer sigh.

 

I know I’m me, I’m Stiles, all male, but I’m also Stella all at the same time and I’m female.  I’m much more Stiles than I am Stella, and traits that seem feminine or masculine are all part of me in one big package with no dividing line.  But lately I’ve needed to let this part of me out more, Stella still has ADHD, is clumsy and a spaz, but when I’m me and I’m letting the girl me out I feel delicate and desirable, I can watch chick flicks without worrying about my man card being revoked and ripped up in front of me, I can embrace the quieter, gentler, softer side of me and revel in it.

 

Locked away in the safety and privacy of my home I can forget all about school, all about the loneliness, all about the supernatural and just let it all go, just be me and the freedom to be me makes me smile and start to hum, I feel like cooking now, I’ll probably batch cook and freeze the results, put the laundry in piles, and I’ll watch TV and do homework.

 

Smoothing my hands down the dress I know this simple garment is a god send for me, I’m thinking of taking extra classes, anything to graduate early and escape from Beacon Hills, dad’ll be happier when I’m no longer reminding him of what a disappointment I am, he’ll be home more because I won’t be, and no one else here wants me.

 

No.

 

I refuse to be negative when I’m wearing my pretty dress.  I check myself out in the mirror and its not quite right, my dick luckily doesn’t show and the dress isn’t tight, I don’t like tight on me, I like looser longer dresses, the sweet dresses because the part of me that’s Stella is sweet, and nice, and polite, all the things that Stiles left behind after mom died.

 

Twirling I regret my dress doesn’t flair out and float but it’s my first dress and I love it.  I don’t cup my chest aware of the boobs that aren’t there, I’m looking into getting fake ones I can put in a bra, and god knows how I’ll get the right bra or the fakes bits to put in it but I’m working on it.

 

My feet are bare and I want to put them in stockings, in tights, to put sandals and boots on my feet.  Nothing with too high a heel or I’ll kill myself with my clumsiness.

 

In the mirror I see my normal short hair, I’ve grown it out a little, but I want long hair sometimes, long and straight, or long with a wave in it, I want to put it up in ponytails, or thread hair accessories in it.  The rest of the time I want it short like this.

 

I also want hats to wear, hats with those big floppy wide brims, and maybe in summer I can have bonnets that do up under my chin.

 

I’m also exceedingly aware that my idea of me as a girl is kinda outdated, but I want to indulge so badly, nearly all the women that have been in my life have been these amazing strong powerful individuals, but soft and feminine too, and I want to be that and male me all at the same time.

 

I’m fairly sure it makes me a bigger freak than being a werewolf ever could.  I daren’t tell anyone about it, about me.

 

I don’t understand me, how can I expect anyone else to understand and accept me?

 

Summoning positive thoughts about leaving Beacon Hills, of having my own apartment and a few pretty dresses like this, I daydream about being able to wear what I want when I want, of being a pretty girl and a great guy and just being me.

 

Picking up the bag and hanger, I put the towel on the rail and humming a tune I dance into the hall and then into my room, I shiver as the colder night air flows over my arms, I’ll close the window in a minute, I want to twirl first, to dance like I’m graceful and like my dress flairs out like they do on TV.

 

Stopping in mid twirl I stare at my open window in horror and get to see a stunned Peter Hale sitting on my computer chair staring back at me, I’ve never seen him with his jaw dropped open like that, it’s slightly satisfying, in a frightening way.

 

I may squeak in surprise and I try to recover before he can, “Mr Hale!” Oh my god, my Stella side is showing, I think and talk a little differently even though I’m the same person, panicking I point to my open bedroom window, “Please leave!”

 

“Stiles?” His voice is strained and squeaky too.  “Stiles is that you?”

 

“Yes,” I cross my arms defensively, “Now leave, you know where the window is situated.”

 

Except he doesn’t leave instead he moves so fast he has me backed against my now closed bedroom door before I can say anything and then he starts to sniff me, “You smell like Stiles.”

 

“That’s because I am Stiles,” I retaliate and then he stiffens.

 

“Lie, you just lied,” blue eyes catch hold of mine and change to glowing blue eyes, “Who are you?” He snarls it and his teeth are growing.

 

Oh my god.

 

How do these things happen to me?

 

“I am Stiles, but I’m also Stella,” I admit because I don’t want my throat ripped out because of a mistake on my gender, which I still don’t know, because am I male or female? Or both? Or neither?

 

“Stella?” He studies me and takes a step back as I lean against the door and let it hold me up, my knees are shaking so hard right now, he scares the shit out of me on an ordinary day, but when he’s being extra scary, like now for example I just want to run away from him and never come back.

 

“Yes,” I hiss like he’s the slow one, “I’m still male but I’m female too, at the same time, it’s easier to think of it as Stiles and Stella, the same person at the same time in the same body, but whether I’m more Stiles or Stella is fluid and changes,” I don’t know how else to explain it to him.

 

He cocks his head to one side, “And right now you’re more Stella,” he guesses and I nod waiting for him to laugh at me and make fun of me, “Hmm, then I apologise for manhandling a lady and for breaking into your boudoir without permission,” he takes more steps back from me and I find my hand in his as he lifts it up to press a kiss to my knuckles.

 

“Mr Hale!” I try and pull my hand from his but he smiles wolfishly at me and tugs on my hand to draw me forward.

 

“Oh my dear Miss Stilinski,” I ignore the way my heart thumps when he simply acknowledges me as female, “I just have a few questions for you first, and then I promise to leave and you can continue your evening unhindered by my uninvited presence,” he says it calmly, and I can’t hear the mocking or the judgement in his voice, so I let him lead me over to the foot of my bed, and I sit as gracefully as I can, I even cross my ankles, which he notices and nods at.

 

He sits back down at my desk, “I humbly request a copy of the research you’ve done on the new creature that is trespassing in Beacon Hills,” Peter’s being polite and he has that urbane nice smile in place.

 

Creature?

 

There’s a new creature?

 

“I’m sorry Mr Hale, but I know nothing about any creature, Scott doesn’t talk to me anymore, what creature are we talking about?” No one tells me anything, I’m so out of the loop I don’t even know if there are any bodies, “Has it killed yet?” Oh god, what if dad is out there right now and he gets hurt because I didn’t know about it and it’ll be all my fault, “My father is at work right now, is he hunting it too?”

 

“Please Miss Stilinski,” he raises his hands for me to calm down, “There are no dead bodies, yet, we are doing what we can to minimise any loss of life, we were under the mistaken assumption Scott would have at least shared this with you.”

 

I shake my head, “No, he’s not talking to me at all, though he’s friendly with Jackson and Lydia, perhaps Lydia knows something?  She has a fully translated copy of the Bestiary, while I only have a partially translated copy.”

 

He snorts, “I think Miss Martin would happily carve out my heart and eat it before handing me that copy,” and I can totally see that happening.  “Though even a partial translation is better than nothing.”

 

I don’t want to give it to him, and this could be a trick, this is Peter Hale master manipulator after all. But what if it could save my dad? And I’m apparently pathetic enough to want to thank him for accepting me as I am and not making fun of me.

 

“Very well,” I agree to give it to him, “But I ask that you watch out for my father.”

 

“I will where I can,” he hedges and I suppose that’s more than I had.  I go over to my laundry basket and turn it upside down, right at the bottom I added a layer and suck to it is the flash drive with a copy of the Bestiary on it. The smell of my laundry would have protected it from noses that smell too well.

 

“Here Mr Hale,” I walk over to him aware that I move differently when I’m Stella.

 

“Peter, please,” he takes the drive from me and his hand lingers on mine, as he rises to his feet, “Thank you for your help Miss Stilinski.”

 

I guess it’s stupid for him to keep calling me by my surname but I do get a thrill from him calling me ‘Miss’, of his acceptance of me, as upset as I am that there’s some kinda thing loose in Beacon Hills, there’s a tiny seed of hope that maybe I’m not so freaky for being me after all.

 

“Please call me Stella, or Stiles,” I concede, and I know I speak archaically but I love to talk anyway and I love period dramas, Pride and Prejudice is one of my favourites, it’s something about the way they speak that I love.

 

“Perhaps I should simply call you angel, for are you not fairer than a heavenly being?” Oh my god he’s flirting with me and I tug my hand from his and I blush, damn it, I am not interested in an insane zombie werewolf who’s got a proven track record of being a psycho. Anyway all Hales can use charm to get what they want I’m not falling for that trick.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Mr Hale,” he pulls a face at me calling him that so I add, “Peter,“ he nods and smiles at me, “I assure you I’m just a plain mortal human, and this human wishes you well in tracking down whatever it is and encouraging it to leave forthwith.” Oh my god I just spoke a sentence with ‘forthwith’ in it out loud.

 

He chuckles and his blue eyes twinkle at me, “Oh my lady, I would happily teach the creature the error of its ways and I know with your favour I could best it easily,” he smirks and breaks into more modern speech when he adds, “Well, after I’ve researched it and found it’s weakness, there’s no need to rush headlong into danger after all.”

 

I roll my eyes at him and he laughs again, he seems so harmless when he wants to, but I know he’s extremely dangerous and I wait for him to leave, which he actually does, he even gives me a little bow, “Fair thee well Stella, I do hope you have a most pleasurable evening and that I haven’t interrupted you too much.”

 

“I believe I’ll recover,” I tell him dryly, “May your evening be fruitful and I hope you find the answers you seek Peter.”

 

He’s backing up to the window and I’m doubley hopeful that I’m going to get out of this intact, that he won’t say anything about me also being a girl, or that he’s seen me in a dress that I am all too aware doesn’t fit me the way it should.

 

And then he stiffens and says, “Derek…”

 

Oh crap.

 

My eyes swing from him to the open window and I reach behind me and yank the zipper down, there’s a tearing sound but I’m so busy struggling out of the dress and throwing it to one side to hide it that I don’t inspect the damage, I’m sure I can sew it up though, I’m sure I can fix it, it can’t be that hard to sew things.

 

I can’t let Derek see this, he wouldn’t understand, he’d get it wrong, he’ll mock me, he hates me so he’ll tell everyone my secret, and they’ll judge me, but worst of all they’ll judge my dad and he could lose his job again because of me.

 

Grabbing the first pair of pants I find, I drag them on and I can see Peter is valiantly trying to defend my window from Derek, he’s standing in the way and blocking the view, “Nephew, I have a copy of the Argent’s Bestiary, we can go now, it should have more information for me…”

 

I’ve got a t-shirt part way on when Peter is forcefully thrown back a good five feet and he goes crashing down onto my floor as a very annoyed Derek Hale finishes climbing in my window, “I want to know what the Argents and Scott are planning.”

 

“Scott isn’t talking to Stiles,” Peter stays on the floor and bares his throat, “You know what the children have said, Scott’s angry with his friend, and you’ve heard the stories of how Stiles has tried out every club in high school.  We’ll have to ask Scott what he knows…”

 

That doesn’t go down well because Derek is advancing on me and I squeak in a useless way, and instead of standing my ground, near my dress, I try to flee, to lead him away from the dress.  It is a dumb idea, it is a really dumb idea. 

 

I barely reach my closed door when I’m grabbed and slammed into my wall, rough hands hold me and then my back meets my wall as Derek leans into my face, his eyes are red, his teeth are longer than they should be, “Stiles,” he growls my name into my face.

 

Only I’m Stiles, but I’m not Stiles right now, I’m far more Stella than I am Stiles.  Stiles would talk his way out of this, he’d babble but my Stella side is quieter and I struggle to make the switch back, except Derek isn’t giving me a chance and its so new to me to let that part out I don’t know how to put it back quickly.

 

I’m shoved into the wall again and I hiss as it catches the bruises I’ve already gotten courtesy of Trent and co.  “Stiles,” Derek is building himself up to something and knowing him it could be anything. I stare into his eyes and I don’t know what to say to him, or what to do to make him go away and not look at my dress.

 

Then he leans forward and sniffs me, his nose wrinkles, “What is that smell?  Are you wearing lotion?” He frowns at me and sniffs again, then he sniffs the air and starts to turn around, “Its somewhere else in the room too…”

 

Damn it that stuff was supposed to be unscented.

 

Oh god he can smell the unscented lotion on the dress, the only thing I can think off is to wiggle in his grip to distract him and it works as he slams me back a third time, it seems to help him focus because he shakes his head and then menaces me, “Tell me what Scott and the Argents are planning, what do they know Stiles, tell me,” he practically yells in my face and dog breath is not pleasant.

 

“Derek,” Peter’s crouching on the floor, “You’re hurting Stiles, you’re frightening Stiles…”

 

“Good,” and Derek looms a bit more over me. I get shaken in his grasp, “Maybe it’ll loosen his tongue and he’ll stop this ridiculous game of pretending he and Scott are broken up,” only its not a game, “So Stiles, lets try this again, tell me what you know.”

 

I might be frightened of him but I refuse to back down to him and I shove my hands uselessly against his chest, “I don’t know anything about their plans, the first I knew anything about a possible creature was when Peter decided to turn up uninvited in my room.  I’ve given him a copy of the Bestiary, it’s only partially translated but it should help.”

 

“Really,” Derek’s eyes are red again, that’s not usually a good sign, “So you expect me to believe that Scott just cut you out of his life like you mean nothing to him,” and that hurts because its true, Scott has done that.  “You expect me to believe that Scott hasn’t come running so that you can do some emergency research for him,” he snorts, “I really don’t believe you Stiles, we’ve bumped into them and they’ve clearly done their research.”

 

Lydia.

 

They have Lydia.

 

“And might I remind you Mr Hale, that they also have access to Miss Martin, and I cannot begin to heap enough praises on her for her intelligence and brilliance, perhaps you should be asking her what her research is,” I point out and he blinks at me.

 

“Miss Martin?” His voice is soft.  Then he straightens his shoulders, “So she’s smarter than you are?  Better than you are?” And that strikes several raw nerves.

 

“Yes,” I admit and when his hands let me go I breathe out and get hopeful that he’s going to leave.

 

“Fine,” he smirks at me and I breathe out again, he’s going to leave, I’m safe, and even he wouldn’t dare manhandle Lydia, she’d castrate him, she is one scary ice cold lady.  “But you’re hiding something from me,” and my eyes glance at the dress guilty.

 

I realise my slip the moment he spins around and then he’s over by the dress and lifting it up, “No,” I whimper and move forward a step ready to take on the big bad Alpha for my dress.  It’s my first dress, it’s special, it’s perfect, I don’t care that it doesn’t fit right, its mine, it makes me feel like a girl.

 

He sniffs it, “The same lotion,” he smiles that smile and I brace myself for the worst, “Do you wear dresses in your spare time Stiles?” He’s mocking me, he’s laughing at me, he’s judging me.

 

“Derek!” Peter’s frozen on his knees and is glaring at his nephew, “Enough, we have information we can use, we should leave.”

 

My eyes are glued to Derek’s hands, the hands that are growing claws and those claws pierce the material of the dress and I whimper again, he lifts the dress up towards his face, “Stiles, you’d better not be lying to me, or…” and I can only watch as he shreds my dress with his claws. The sound is horrifying the fabric screaming under those razor sharp knives. Little strips of cream cloth flutter to the ground and my own legs give out as I cry out at what he’s done.

 

“No, no, my dress,” I crawl forward on all fours to snatch up the pieces of my dress, “No, no, no, please, no,” my face is wet as I clutch the tattered remains of that beautiful pretty dress that made me feel more whole than I have done for years.

 

Dark jeans and boots come into view and then Derek’s saying, “I think you need to get out more Stiles, locking yourself inside to play dress up with women’s clothing is just weird.”

 

“Derek!” Peter’s voice is cold and hard, “Leave Stiles alone.”

 

“Fine, now we have the Bestiary its not like we have a use for him anymore, we can deal with the problem without him getting in the way, I never did trust him,” I flinch at that, “And he’s never been normal.”

 

I go completely numb and sit there staring at the broken pieces of me on the floor, I wait for the click of my window and the chill wind stops blowing in my room.  Numb I stand and go to get a brush.  I collect all the pieces of my dress and put them in the bag I used to keep it in.

 

Numb I walk to the bathroom and strip down, I put the panties in the bag too.  Then I tie it up in a knot.  Stepping into the shower I turn it on and when the water hits my face I thaw out and I’m no longer numb as I scream in pain.

 

I fall to the floor of the bath and curl up to rock myself, scream and sob.  There’s no one to hear me, no one to comfort me, no one to care, I’m all alone, and I’m a freak, a weird freak, who only gets in the way.

 

I’m not sure how long I stay there but the water goes cold and I’m shivering from it when I turn off the water.  I dry myself off and then I pull on the pants and t-shirt from earlier.  Going downstairs I walk across the garden and dump the bag with my ruined dress and the panties in the trash.

 

Back inside the house I lock up, again, and go to my room, I draw the blind down and then I turn the light off.  Curling up on top of my covers I stare blankly at the blinds and wait for morning.

 

I hear dad come home, I hear him complain about the lack of hot water and I hear him curse my name. I hear him leave at five o’clock and I wait for my alarm to go off.

 

I get up and put socks on, get my bag ready for school and I cram a slice of bread in my mouth to have with my Adderall, because I’m a medicated freak who’s brain doesn’t work properly, that must be part of my problem, part of why I’m so wrong.

 

I push down the part of me that’s female and I drive to school.  It’s not until I’m climbing out of my jeep that I spot Derek across the parking lot, he’s standing with Isaac and he looks my way.

 

Jerking my head away I flush with shame, I’m so wrong, unnatural, I know its okay for girls to wear boys’ clothes, but not the other way around, it doesn’t matter than I’m weird and think I might be part girl, it only matters that I’m not normal, that I’m defective and wrong.

 

Wrapping my arms around my middle my feet drag as I walk into school and I try and avoid everyone, it won’t take long for them to find out about me, to realise just how much of a freak I am, Derek will tell his Betas and then they’ll tell the school, and then dad will find out and he’ll hate me forever, he might even lose his job because of this.

 

Because of me.

 

Some son I turned out to be, I bet he wishes I were dead, I bet he wishes I’d never been born, I know I do.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a few days before Christmas and I’m pushing the shopping cart around and trying to dodge everyone else in the damn store. I need to finish getting the vegetables for the next week and I’ve stopped in the craft section too, I have a project for dad’s Christmas present.

 

I’m tense as hell, yesterday was the last day of school for this year and no one’s said anything, yet.  I feel like Derek’s holding this over my head and I’m having trouble eating so I have to force myself to keep food down.

 

The part of me that’s Stella is on lockdown, I’m doing my best to keep her, me, under wraps, to not give anything away, to hide in plain sight as just a guy.

 

School is pile of crap so I’m glad it’s over for a few weeks, and I’ve finally gotten signed up for the extra courses, dad has signed off for them so I can begin fast tracking out of Beacon Hills and away from everything.

 

My life now consists of schoolwork and I’ve been practicing lacrosse in the back garden and going for long runs.  Contact sports are seen as male, which is stupid, have those idiots out there seen women in contact sports? I’m not dumb enough to take them on; they’d slaughter me. But it gives me something to hide behind and I like lacrosse, even though I’m not on the team but I can pretend I’m staying fit in case I get back on the team.

 

Also if I can keep food down and stay relatively fit I’ll appear more normal, I can pass undetected a bit more easily, people’s eyes will slide over me so I can stay safe, my dad can stay safe and I can stop destroying his life.

 

Speaking of dad, I wander down one aisle and look at socks, his are getting extra holey, he needs some new ones.  I head for the straightforward black cotton ones and grab a couple of packs in his size, when something catches my eye.

 

An employee is hanging up some silk scarves on the other side of the aisle with the other women’s things, they’re in soft pastel shades, a few of them look like they have flower patterns on them and I really want to be able to go over there and browse, to touch the soft fabric and then buy one or more so I can take them home and wear them.

 

To have that silky smoothness around my neck, to know when I looked in a mirror one of them would be nestled around me, that I’d be pretty too.

 

Maybe one day I could have a dress too, one that matched the scarf and I could float around the house, I could twirl, and…

 

A throat clears near me and Derek’s voice barks, “Stiles! Are you even paying attention to me?”

 

“D…D…Derek!” I flail a bit and nearly trip over to land on my ass but save myself by grabbing onto the cart and I nearly ram a few other shoppers, I have to wave and apologise as they all glare at me.  Seeing the bad tempered leather clad werewolf behind me I turn to flee.

 

A hand lands on my shoulder holding me in place, “Stiles,” he’s stepped up to me and I try to shake his hand off, he moves closer and we’re almost the same height so he doesn’t have to stoop to murmur in my ear, “Were you looking at the scarves?” My blood runs cold at being caught by him again, of being a freak when I’m trying so hard not to be.  “Did you want to get one for yourself?” His voice isn’t mocking, it’s very soft, gentle, kind even, but my stomach heaves anyway, he already hates me, he already thinks I’m a freak, that I’m not normal, that I’m wrong.

 

“No,” my voice squeaks, and there is no way he could miss my blatant lie, “Why would you think that?” I give a nervous laugh, oh god, don’t let him blurt it out in public, I yank my shoulder out from under him and wince at the pain, just one more bruise to add to my collection.  “I only get things like that for Lydia, sweet wonderful Lydia, who’s a girl,” and then I turn tail and run.  Well walk really quickly and I head straight for a checkout. I glance back once to make sure he’s not following me and he’s just standing there looking confused and sad.

 

Please let me have gotten everything, I really need to leave right now.

 

I know my heart is thundering in my chest, but I hold it together and escape from the store, I drive home, under the speed limit, and put all the groceries away.

 

Shoving the thought of the Alpha out of my head I calm myself down and then smile because I’m going to do my project.

 

Taking over the kitchen table I spread out my project, it’s a photo album for my dad, I’ve dug out all the old photos, ones of him and mom, ones of him and mom and me, and ones of him and Mrs McCall, Scott and me.  Happy memories of before everything went to shit, of before I had to keep lying to him to keep him safe or Scott safe, when things were simpler and I could ignore my girl side, so basically when I wasn’t wrong and unnatural.

 

When I was just a boy, well mostly a boy, because Stella was there even then.

 

And this project is fun to do, I’ve spent a few evenings going through the photos and they made me smile, I remember nearly all of them.  I’m not using the original photos, I’ve scanned them and cropped them and printed out the ones I want to use.

 

If I’m home invaded by a grumpy werewolf the only thing he’s going to see is me doing a home made present for my dad, in strong manly primary colours, I have avoided all glitter and stickers, all those little bits that I wanted to add but I wasn’t sure if it was too girly.

 

Picking up my list I begin the slow methodical pasting and gluing in of pictures in the order I’ve already decided.  I cut out labels and stick myself to the damn photo album way too many times and I may end up with paper stuck to me but I’m happy with the results and flick through the finished album, this has to work, dad’s going to remember all the good things and we’re going to mend all our fences.

 

Now I’m not involved in any werewolf shenanigans, because none of them want me, I don’t have to lie to him anymore, I’m not getting into trouble, I’m hiding Stella with all my might, and we can get back on track.

 

Tiding up I wrap up his present and add it to the earlier store bought one.

 

Things are going to get better, and this time I won’t fuck it up, this time I won’t let anything go wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

Bounding down the stairs early on Christmas Morning I grin to myself when I see the two presents I left out for dad are missing from the kitchen table.  Awesome, he opened them before he left for work.

 

Strangely I can’t see anything for me on the table, he’s probably hidden it so he can give it to me when he gets back from work.

 

Rushing back up the stairs I hurry through my shower and pull on some clothes, then I peel all the veg and start cooking the small turkey, I’ll have it ready for him when he gets home at lunch, he always stops in at lunch time on Christmas Day, all the Deputies do that, it’s Traditional.

 

And today is a brand new start for us.

 

He’s taken my peace offering and I’m not going to screw it up, I’m going to be the kind of son he can be proud of, that he can depend on, I’m going to rock his world in all the right ways.

 

Cleaning up the house I make it more than presentable and then I run up stairs to get changed, a nice pair of pants, a shirt and a tie, it’s a big deal today after all, I then bounce downstairs and check the clock, he’ll be home in ten minutes, just in time for dinner.

 

I dish it up on the dot and sit down at my place setting waiting for him to walk in.  My knees jingle up and down as I fight to sit still.  He’s late and my mind is conjuring up images of him in an accident and I end up pacing.

 

Then I check my phone.

 

Nothing.

 

When he’s twenty minutes late I panic and phone dispatch, its one of the newbies, “Hey this is Stiles, I was wondering where dad is right now?”

 

“He’s at his Traditional Christmas Dinner,” she does not sound friendly and I’m about to point out that he’s not here, so can somebody please check up on him, when she adds, “At the McCall house, which you would know if you listened to your daddy instead of being a tearaway, you know the house he eats at every other Sunday, that Scott McCall is a good son to his mom,” and then she hangs up on me.

 

Stunned I stand there and sway.

 

I don’t know how to process this.

 

The smell of food nearly makes me puke, and I put the phone down to pick up the plates of useless food, I carry them to the kitchen, and put my foot on the peddle to open up the bin when I notice the bright shiny wrapping paper sitting in the trash, the same bright shiny wrapping paper that I put around dad’s presents.

 

And even from this angle I can tell they’ve not been opened.

 

Carefully I put the plates down on the counter, then I reach into the bin to pull the presents out.  The still wrapped presents.  The presents my dad didn’t want from me.

 

But then why would he want anything from me?

 

All I ever do is give him trouble or grief, I mess up so often, I’m a bad son to him, and I’ve finally destroyed any hope of us reconciling.  To the point that he’s spending time at the McCall’s, that he’s avoiding his own house to get away from me, that even the newbies at the Station know who I am and how pointless I am.

 

I put the gifts in the trash, then I put the wasted food on top, I’ll put the trash out tonight before it stinks up the house.

 

Dazed I go and get changed then I make myself practice lacrosse for hours, I run to the point that I vomit, so I run some more.  I shower and dress and then I do more homework, my plan to graduate early needs to happen sooner rather than later.  The sooner I leave the better for everyone.

 

And that’s how I spend the holidays, working out with my skinny useless fragile human body, completing assignment after assignment, making notes, revising, studying and then collapsing into bed at the end of the day.

 

I don’t see dad, I don’t push to see dad, he doesn’t want to see me, he’s made that very clear.

 

On the last day before school I notice one of the picture frames in the living room is face down.  It’s the one we got when we did a dumb fishing competition together, the frame reads ‘No#1 Son’ and it has a gap toothed me and a proud beaming dad as I hold up a tiny minnow thing you can barely see it was that small.

 

On impulse I take the picture and scan it in, I dick around with manipulating the photo and we have one of Scott that young, I impose Scott on the image over the picture of me and I go off to find a picture of a bigger fish on Google, he’d have found a good fish instead of the shit one I did.

 

Printing out the new improved photo I put it in the frame and put the picture frame back face down where I found it, I smile thinking of the surprise dad can have when he sees it, he likes Scott, he trusts Scott, he prefers Scott to me.

 

Another picture catches my eye and it’s my mom long before she got sick, she’s so pretty, she has these warm brown eyes like honey, everyone liked her eyes, her long red hair has these natural waves in it, she had moles and freckles everywhere, dad said he could trace constellations on her skin and it always made her laugh.

 

She had a lovely laugh.

 

People always laughed with her, they were always happy to see her, she was so warm and adored, at her funeral the whole town practically turned up to see her, we didn’t have to cook for months because of all the casseroles.

 

She should never have died, she should be here right now, she should be eating Christmas Dinners with my dad and laughing over the lame jokes in the crackers, instead she died, and I didn’t.

 

It should have been me.

 

Not her.

 

She’s perfect.

 

It gives me an idea and I gather up all the photo frames with me in them.  It takes the rest of the day but I edit myself out of all of them, where I can I put Scott into them and then I put them back.

 

And it’s like I don’t exist, like I’m not part of this family, which I’m not, I can’t be, I’m the odd one out, and when I’m gone dad can have Scott, he can have the son he’s always deserved to have.

 

I pack my school bag for the morning, I have school again.

 

Now all I have to do is survive it until I can graduate.

 

I go to bed at a reasonable time and lay there listening to the silence, it’s something I’m going to have to get used to when I leave and I’m officially on my own for the rest of my life.


	4. Chapter 4

School is school and I trudge from lesson to lesson and struggle to concentrate as I make notes. I try not to fidget, to call attention to myself, I try to answer the questions they’ve asked and not invent new ones because the tangents are more interesting.

 

And I try not to punch Scott in the face for stealing my dad, except I’ve got nobody to blame but myself for losing dad, I’m the one that’s born wrong, not Scott and not dad.

 

The school is buzzing about the last lacrosse game, it was a friendly and I zone out, I don’t need to know how we won and I hide in the library to avoid it all.

 

Which is where Coach Finstock finds me.

 

“Bilinski!” He’s shockingly loud in the library and the librarian ‘shhs’ him, “Right, right, sorry, sorry,” his whisper is amusingly loud and he sits in the seat next to mine.  “Bilinski,” he’s being nice and I wonder what I did wrong on my essay, I turned in all my homework this morning, most of the teachers stared at me funny, but it’s all out of the way and I have time to work on my other assignments for my extra courses.

 

I don’t say anything and wait for him to say what he came to say, he frowns, “Err, so I’m sure you heard the result from the game,” he’s nervous for some reason.

 

“No,” I’m assuming we won, we have four werewolves on the team, and it was against the worst team in the league, we couldn’t have lost.

 

“Oh,” he rubs his chin, “Well we kinda lost,” and then he mentions the score.

 

“Did we not turn up?” Is all I can think of, because we lost so horrifically, “Or was Danny sick or something?” Danny is an awesome goalie.

 

“Err, no,” he fidgets, “But I have a solution, you’re back on the team,” he grins widely as I stare at him, the grin shrinks, “Um, Bilinski, did you not hear me? You’re on the team,” he says it louder and gets lots of ‘shh’ hissed at him, “Yeah, library, sorry.”

 

I have no idea why he wants me on the team, unless it’s to blame me for the team’s failure, I mean I’m a failure as a son and as a boy why not on the field too?  “Okay, when’s practice?” I ask and wonder how I’m going to fit this into my schedule, though maybe this can replace the work outs I’ve been doing, and being on an athletics team will look good on college applications, I’ll look more normal.

 

“That’s it? No big whoop of joy, no little victory dance?” He’s frowning harder, “Bilinski are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, I just have a lot of homework,” and I turn back to my notes, he doesn’t move so I look back, “Was there something else?”

 

He blinks, “Err, no, no, that’s all and first practice for you is tomorrow.”

 

“Okay, I’ll be there,” I nod and let myself get sucked into sucrose over fructose and the biological implications of each type of sugar on our bodies.

 

*

 

I’ve rejigged my schedule, factoring in time spent at lacrosse practice and matches, I’ll take out the same corresponding time I was working out, it still leaves me with a tougher work out than Coach gives us and I have time to work on my homework and extra courses.

 

I’m also going to try to stagger my finals where I can so the pressure of the exams doesn’t destroy me, I need to do well in my exams not crash and burn.

 

Walking into the boys’ locker room I ignore everyone around me, I get changed as Coach is yelling at someone, I think it’s Trent.  Pads on I double-check my stick and I’m one of the first out onto the field for warm ups.  I think Coach must believe I’m eager to be back on the team, he couldn’t be more wrong, I only want to be able to put this on my college applications so I can leave Beacon Hills.

 

During tackle practice I’m normally thrown to the ground, but this time I refuse to go down and I ram my opponents, this is a rough contact sport and I can totally bring it, the fact that I’m having to embrace numbness to do it doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters is that no one realises how much of a freak I am.

 

Whenever I’ve played before I was here for fun, to play the game, it was a bit about winning but a lot about taking part.  I was the bench warmer, I could cheer as an Olympic Sport, sure I wanted on First String but I was going to do it on my terms and when I played in the Championship game I won the game, somehow, but I still won it, it still totally counts.

 

All through practice I struggle with my ADHD, I have to focus on what I’m doing, to think of every strategy and go for any and all weaknesses that my so called team mates show me.  I’ve never been ruthless enough to do it in the past, but I can do it now.

 

It’s an interesting side effect of bottling up Stella, because I’m technically male and female, I can’t suppress her without suppressing Stiles too.  That numbness I felt when Derek said those words, after mutilating my beautiful dress, is coming in handy, as I use it to block out all the things I can’t cope with, which is most of my life, I’m so stuck between being male and female that I need something to help me.

 

“See that’s what I’m talking about,” Coach is pointing at me for some reason, “Now warm down and hit the showers, we are redoing the game tomorrow, they’ve agreed to another friendly, and I want you at your best.”

 

The guys groan and I walk away when I’ve completed my warm downs, I have the showers to go to.  It doesn’t take long.  But sitting on the benches waiting is taking too long so I have my math book out, I’ll use the time as constructively as possible.  It’s annoying having to do this here, there are so many sounds, so many distractions and I lose focus far too often for my liking.

 

“Right!” Coach is yelling again, he yells too much.  “Gather round kiddies, time to tell you who’s on First String,” as he goes through the normal names I pack my math book up and then sit there as quietly as possible, I’ll just be warming up the bench again, and then he says, “And lastly on First String we have…” He does a very annoying pause, “Bilinski!” He does this weird arm thing and points to me.

 

I stare at him and he stares back.

 

“Err, Bilisnki, you do realise I just made you First String right?” He asks bewildered and I nod because yes he’s made me First String and that will look even better on my college application.  “So you’re not going to do a victory dance?” He waves his hands around, “No big whoops and yells and frankly some pretty girly screaming?”

 

“No,” I wrap the numbness tighter around me, it’s not good if he’s noticed anything girly about me, “I’m grateful for the opportunity to represent my school,” It’s a lie, a huge lie, but it sounds good.

 

His shoulders fall and the boys in the room mutter, “Bilinski are you feeling okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Another lie.

 

“Are you sure?” Coach scratches his head, “’Coz I’m more used to you being, you know,” he waves his arms wildly and smacks Greenburg by accident.

 

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

 

“Right, right, okay, and dismissed then,” he’s staring at me confused and frowny, those mutters around him start up again as I grab my bags and prepare to leave.  I have homework to do tonight.

 

“Stiles,” It’s Scott and his hand lands on my shoulder, I stop in my tracks and wait, “Dude, you’re back on the team, that’s awesome,” warm brown eyes smile at me, “I really hope this means we can be friends again.” I never stopped being his friend, he stopped being mine, and perhaps it’s better this way, this way he’ll never find out about Stella.

 

Shaking his hand loose I walk away.

 

“Stiles,” he yells it louder and the whole locker room is staring at us, which really doesn’t bother me, “Dude, what the hell?”

 

For a second I see red and it burns through the numb haze, then I shove it down, he’s not bothered to see how he abandoned me throughout the wolfy shit that’s been happening, so screw it, he won’t see how he abandoned me the moment Allison was back in his life, he won’t see any of it because I’m not Allison, I’m not like her, I don’t have pretty dark hair, I’m not a kickass daughter of a Hunter, I’m just Stiles/Stella and no one is ever going to accept me for me.

 

I go for a non answer, “I have homework,” and then I walk away again, though I’m tempted to go back and to beat the crap out of him for taking my dad, the dad I’m a shit son to, the dad I’m a failure to.  Best that I leave and Scott can gain a dad that isn’t crappy and won’t ever hit him.

 

Driving home I do my homework, eat, do more homework, check my kit for the game, and then I go to bed.

 

I don’t bother to tell dad I’m on the team again, no need to make him feel obligated to turn up or come up with excuses to not come, he can turn up to Scott’s games, this is probably the only one I’ll get to play in so it really isn’t important for him to come, anyway he has work and that’s far more important than me.

 

*

 

The crowd is going wild, and it’s not our crowd it’s the opposing teams’ crowd, and I really can’t blame them, this is their chance to kick our asses again.  Because we are shit, like really shit, as in I can’t believe this is our team.

 

Scott and Jackson are arguing and being dicks.  They each want the ball so they can score the goals and screw everyone else on the team.

 

Isaac and Boyd are trying to work together and with the rest of the team but they’re still having trouble with their wolfy powers, and Scott and Jackson aren’t helping them with keeping their tempers under control.

 

In fact my shock at this not turning into a mass mauling is creeping through my numbness.  The number of times I’ve see glowing eyes on the field is way too many, it makes me glad I’m a substitute on First String and I’m bench warming.

 

With the co-captains at loggerheads the rest of the team are trying their hardest but aren’t getting anywhere.  I’m tempted to just leave it, to let them bomb but by half time I’ve had enough, I didn’t rejoin the damn team just to be part of a losing team, I need this for my applications, I need the extra credit.

 

We shuffle off the field for half time and I get to see Derek sitting with Peter and Erika.  Peter waves to me and Derek has his head in his hands.  Allison and Lydia are sitting together next to Mr Argent and I shudder to myself, the stands are full of people I’m afraid of, either because they can expose my secret or just because they’re naturally scary individuals.

 

To say Coach rants at us would be an understatement, he’s not a happy little bunny, and neither Jackson nor Scott can agree why it went wrong, they keep blaming each other and arguing about why the other one won’t just give them the ball.

 

“That does it,” Coach cuts his hands through the air, “Jackson, McCall you’re both benched for the rest of the game,” they whine but he doesn’t budge, “Greenburg, Bilinski, you’re both up.”

 

Greenburg’s excited and happy he gets to play I just sigh, probably a bit loudly, and trundle back out to play.  We get a bit better and score a few times, but now at least we’re blocking them from scoring and moral starts to lift.

 

Exasperated at how my team is constantly missing opportunities I point them out and get some back talk, but they try my suggestions and we advance up the scoring board.

 

The other team is that bad that now we’re fighting back they fall to pieces, to the point that even I can scoop the ball up and wander slowly down to their goal and score, seriously where is their defence? This sucks balls.

 

My team starts to look to me for plays, and I’m baffled, this is the easiest game in the history of Lacrosse, the only way it could be easier is if our opponents hadn’t turned up in the first place. Shrugging I do what they want and give them the plays, and Coach yells others from the sidelines.

 

By the time the game is over we have stomped our way all over the other team, we are victorious with a stupidly huge number of points over theirs.  I’d feel bad for them but I’m still fairly numb.

 

The locker room is loud and guys are hugging and yelling and generally celebrating.  I get dressed and one of the guys, who would normally never talk to me, asks me what drink I prefer for the after school party at Lydia’s.

 

I’ve always wanted to go.

 

To be part of it.

 

To be someone that others would look at and want to be around, to not be lonely.

 

I’m capable of admitting to myself I’m shallow enough to want to be popular, to have the adoration of the crowd, I’d loved it when I’d won the Championship, the high, that was quickly followed by the low of having the shit beaten out of me, of losing Lydia, of realising I’m never ever getting what I want.

 

“Sorry, I have homework to do,” and I walk out of the locker room.

 

I pass Derek loitering in the hallway, he must be waiting for Isaac and Boyd, I know my heart has sped up, I’m afraid of what he could say, how he could ruin me with just a few words.

 

I hurry past him and don’t look at him.

 

Parking up at home, I put my kit in the laundry and drag myself upstairs, I’m not hungry at the moment, I’m still too tense from seeing Derek today.  I don’t know why I trust Peter not to say a word but I do.  Perhaps it’s the way he just went with it and didn’t mock me, how he tried to keep Derek from finding out, though this is Peter so he’s probably keeping it under wraps so he can stab me in the back with it, its more him.

 

Just like I told the boy in the locker room I do homework and I’m totally caught up by the time I fall onto my bed, outwardly I’m calm, but inside I’m starting to come apart at the seams, the numbness is helping me, but it only does so much.

 

Thankfully I only have to do this for a little while, then I can graduate and escape, that’s what I have to hang onto, that’s what I have to focus on.

 

It’s all I have left now.


	5. Chapter 5

Walking through school for the rest of the week is strange, people keep talking to me, people that have never talked to me before.  Girls have giggled at me and waved.  At first I thought someone was standing behind me but whenever I looked there was no one there.

 

On Friday as I sit to eat my lunch Danny plops into the seat on my right and the popular kids surround me like I’m one of them.  I’d be weirded out but the numb thing is blanketing things for me.

 

Picking at my food I ignore the kids and wait for them to notice me and shoo me off like they normally do, except they don’t, and one of the popular girls, I think her name is Bethany, is twirling her hair around a finger and for a second all I can think of is how much I want to be able to do that, to twirl my finger in long hair like that.

 

I must have stared too long because she’s giggling, I jerk my eyes down to my tray and go back to concentrating on my food.

 

Clearing my tray I stand up and walk away, I think someone calls my name but I keep walking and go to the library.  Coach has a game scheduled for this Saturday, it’s an away game so I have to ride there with the team and back again.

 

Damn it.

 

This is biting into my study time, perhaps it was a bad idea to go back on the team.  Getting out my Chemistry book I finish off my notes and tonight I can do the essay Mr Harris set, he’s still a dick, but the numbness zones him out so he’s more like background white noise than anything.  I don’t have to listen to him call me weird and stupid, useless and an idiot.  I wonder if he knows about me, if he can sense it about me, or if he just really hates me because I’m a terrible person.

 

Someone sits next to me and I glace around to see Danny sitting there, he smiles at me, and I look around the library to see its mostly empty, there are plenty of seats and I’m fairly certain Danny normally sits on the other side of the room.

 

“So what are you working on?” He’s still smiling and for a moment I wonder if I’ve somehow morphed into Jackson when I wasn’t looking.

 

My eyes flick to the really obvious Chemistry book open in front of me, “Chemistry,” I answer him.

 

“Cool,” he puts a few books on the table in front of him and I think he’s actually settling down to study.

 

It goes quiet and I highlight a few passages I want to expand on and do more research, school text books are so boring, they only touch on subjects they don’t delve below to the interesting stuff.

 

“Glad you’re back on the team,” Danny says and I blink thinking someone else must have joined us, except there’s no one else near us.  Danny’s flicking through his own Chemistry book, “I’m glad none of the other clubs wanted you,” and my stomach drops, god even Danny hates me, “Their loss our gain,” he gives me a warm smile, the ones he saves for Jackson and I blink unsure what to do or say.  “I think the Drama club was the best one, that idiot that took the male lead shouldn’t have had you kicked out, I heard you were going to be the lead.”

 

I’d wanted to be the female lead, her lines were funnier and frankly her costume was better, the male lead had itching looking shit to wear.  I shrug at Danny realising he’s waiting for me to say something.

 

“Frankly the whole thing tanked and nobody bought tickets for the play,” he carries on, “And I heard the Chess club lost their big competition, you were a shoo in for the win on that one.”

 

There are so many online chess competitions and I tend to play on those, it meant I beat the local champion here too quickly and he got upset and I got kicked out of the club.  Danny’s staring at me again so I nod at him, that sets him off talking again, I never realised Danny talked so much, it’s hard to keep my words locked up in my chest but I do it somehow.

 

It’s a relief when the bell rings and I have to go to class, I get up and say, “I have class.”

 

“Okay,” he smiles at me again, he’s smiling a hell of a lot, “We can hang out later…”

 

Oh god.

 

“Sorry, I have homework,” I interrupt him.

 

“Oh,” he pauses and for a second looks upset, “That’s cool.  Another time, I really enjoyed hanging out with you today,” and he seems to mean it.

 

Danny enjoyed hanging out with me today.

 

I spend the rest of the day in a daze and wonder if maybe I was a bit hasty in brushing him off.  That maybe I overreacted, I mean it’s Danny, he’s like the nicest person on the planet and everyone likes Danny, it’s a rule or something.

 

Going home I work out, shower, have dinner and do homework, I’ll be missing valuable time tomorrow, not that it matters a huge amount, I’m starting to sleep even less than I normally do, I can’t seem to drop off to sleep, I may as well use that time to study.

 

Curling up on my bed, my brain whirls around and around, it keeps replaying the time I spent with Danny.  I can’t work out why he enjoyed spending time with me.  And then it hits me, I’m not really being me, lots of teachers have commented on it, how undisruptive I am in class, how diligent I am with my homework, how quiet I am.

 

That must be why Danny wants to hang out with me, because I’m not being me, I’m not being the loud flailing spaz that I really am.  It just rams home how little people like me, how unlikeable I am, no wonder Scott took off the moment he could to hang out with Allison all the time.

 

My anger at being ditched by him fades, I wouldn’t want to hang out with me either not if I could be with someone like Allison, someone strong, someone who isn’t weak.

 

It takes me a long time to drop off to sleep and I wake up far too early, I’ve only had a few hours sleep and I have a game tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

The ball hits the back of the goal and the crowd goes wild, well the part of the crowd that’s ours.  I’ve just scored the winning goal and the whistle blows.  I’m swamped by my teammates and a part of me melts for a few seconds and then it hardens again.

 

I push my way out of the mass and go the sidelines, where Coach is busting a move, I sit down on the bench and wait impatiently for the signal to go to the showers.

 

Coach smacks me on the shoulder, “Woo, yeah, now that is what I’m talking about, this is the team that… Bilinski?  Weren’t you just on the field scoring the winning goal?”  He sounds confused.

 

“Yes,” I answer him.

 

“Err… Okay, so why aren’t you out there?” Where my teammates are hugging each other and I really want to be out there, but I’m trying to hide part of me from everyone, I can’t do that with guys all over me.

 

I shrug at him.

 

He sits down next to me, “Bilinski… Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” I lie to him.

 

“Yeah, not really believing you there kid, my office is open if you need it,” and then he’s rounding us all up and I wonder if he can see it too, if he can see how wrong I am.

 

Glancing up in the stands I can see Mr Argent sitting with Allison and Lydia, they travelled all this way to see the game.  Derek and Peter are sitting further up the stands, and Derek’s staring right at me.  Peter elbows him and shakes his head so Derek looks away.  Erika isn’t there but then she’s walking along the stands to them and I turn away from them.

 

I don’t belong to anyone in the stands.

 

I’m alone.

 

In the showers I get ready and sit waiting for the guys to finish primping and they say girls take a long time to get ready to go out.  Finally Jackson stops messing around with his hair and we’re good to go.

 

There’s a line of people waiting for them and various family and friends surround them to congratulate them, they get kisses from girlfriends and hugs from everyone else.  Apparently we’ve been on a bit of a losing streak but things are turning around.

 

Walking off I go to find our bus and then I get in, the driver ticks me off the list and I settle near the front.  Getting my phone out I pull up a reference site and start to read, I’m not wasting my time waiting for those idiots, I have courses to finish, I have a graduation to get to.

 

The players pile onto the bus and start talking loudly about the party they’re all going to.  They talk about the girls they are going to be doing tonight, the drink they are going to be having, how it’s going to be amazing and brilliant.

 

The bus starts up and partway home we move out of reception for my phone I stare out into the dark and wrap the numbness around me, my knees are jiggling but other than that I have Stella and me under control.

 

Someone plops down beside me, it’s Danny, he’s grinning, “So, I’ll see you at the party tonight?”

 

“No,” Is my automatic answer and anyway he only wants me because I’m being quiet, “I have homework.”

 

“You always seem to have homework,” he sighs and leans in, “Is everything okay with you?”

 

“I’m fine,” I lie.

 

“No, you’re not,” he replies and pats my arm, “I’m here if you need me,” and then he walks away, I turn to watch him weave his way down the bus and my eyes catch Boyd’s. I jerk my head back around and closing my eyes I try to block them all out by reciting the periodic table in my head, I move onto dates in the Civil War, then I cycle through math equations and build shapes in my mind.

 

By the time we pull into the school I have a headache and I rub my forehead, damn it, I have homework to do before I can go to bed.

 

Dragging myself home I almost fall out of my baby and dad’s cruiser is missing again, I’m really not surprised, he probably thought I was home and was trying to avoid me.  Slumping against my jeep I lean into her, I’ve only been doing this a short while, trying to pretend I’m normal, I’m not sure I can do it for much longer.  Sighing I straighten up and stagger to my door.

 

Getting inside I turn to I’m closing the door, when I spot Derek and Peter standing on the opposite side of the road, lurking, Peter waves at me.  I blink and shake my head and when I look again, they’re gone.

 

I must have imagined it.

 

My kit goes in the laundry, I avoid food and turn on my laptop, time to get some work done.  Five hours later dad comes creeping in and goes to bed, I guess I should too.

 

Laying down I yawn, I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep, and lay there for a few more hours before I finally fall asleep.

 

*

 

Dad was already gone when I woke up this morning.  I couldn’t face breakfast so I dry swallowed my pills, never a good thing but hey, it’s not like I matter.  I do warm ups and run some drills in the back garden, when I think I’m warmed through I go to get the modified backpack and strap the small weight belts I’ve made to my legs and to my arms.  The backpack is heavy but fits snugly on my back and I go for a long run. I have to build up my muscles and my stamina, I have to look as normal as I can.

 

All the guys I know have muscles, stupid werewolf six packs, all manly and not feminine, my own body is too skinny, too weak, too fragile.  I’ve also seen Allison’s arms and the girl has biceps on her.

 

At one point during my run I fall to the ground and vomit up my stomach juices, I think I see the remains of my meds but screw it, I’m not eating that again.  I breathe heavily as I spit out the disgusting stuff in my mouth.  Something makes me look up and Derek is standing in the middle of the forest trail I’m running, he’s staring at me and I glare at him, damn it, I do not need his crap right now. 

 

Looking away I gather myself to stand up and groan as I get to my feet, but when I glance towards him he’s gone again.  Great, I’m hallucinating now, just awesome.

 

Finishing my run my body is trembling and shaky.  I do warm downs and go for a shower.  Dressing in boy clothes, because that’s all I own, I wander into my room to take all my laundry downstairs, only I freeze in place, my window is open, it was closed earlier.  A quick visual sweep of my room proves its werewolf free.

 

“Hello?” I call out and I get no reply. I take my laundry downstairs and dump it then I walk around the house and the only thing I can find out of place is one or two of the pictures I edited, like someone was looking at them.

 

There’s a creak from upstairs and I don’t have the energy to run up there, I walk, the only difference is my bedroom window is now closed.

 

Glaring at my window I go downstairs and wonder which of the resident furry population thought it would be funny to go through my house.  Making myself some lunch I force it down.  I’ve used up a lot of energy today, I need to replace that, and I need more protein to build up muscles, if I don’t have the basic building blocks for my body then I won’t look normal, I’ll look like I have an eating disorder and people will ask questions, they can’t ask questions, they have to accept me, well the surface of me.

 

I’m washing up when the front door goes, no one is supposed to be here, and I grab a frying pan to defend myself when dad walks into the kitchen, “Stiles, why are you wielding a frying pan?”

 

“Um…” I put the frying pan down and go back to washing up.  He must have forgotten something today, that’s why he’s home.

 

I hear a chair being pulled out, “So, Scott says you’re back on the team and you won the last two games for them.”

 

No I didn’t, I just pointed out the things they were doing wrong, “Yes I’m on the team, but any wins we have are a team effort,” and nothing to do with me.  Now I know why he’s home, he’s here to lecture me about screwing up.

 

Silence.

 

I pull the plug in the sink and watch the water drain away, the way the water swirls around is always the same, unless you go to the southern hemisphere and then it should go the other way round.

 

Dad clears his throat, “Err, I’ve not had any phone calls from the school for a while, that’s good.”

 

“I’ve not been getting into trouble,” I tell him and start to dry up.  “I spend a lot of time in the library doing homework.”

 

More silence and I finish up the drying up. I move onto putting things away.

 

“Scott misses you,” Dad says and I drop the frying pan on the floor, I bend over and pick it up, carefully not looking at dad.

 

“No he doesn’t, he has Allison now,” I put the frying pan away.  It was the last thing I had to do.  “I’m going to do homework now.”

 

I leave him there and I bet he’s glad I’m going, he sighs as I walk up the stairs and I know I’m right, he’s sorry I’m here, he wishes I were gone, that he had Scott as a son instead of me.

 

Buried in Biology I don’t notice him walk up behind me, “What’s that?” He points at my laptop screen.

 

“It’s the inside of a nerve, potassium on one side, sodium on the other.  When a nerve is activated they swap sides,” it’s the easiest way to explain it without getting into the permutational qualities and temperatures that affect it, “It causes the electrical current that is we call a nerve impulse,” it’s close enough to true, for a given worth of true, and dad is nodding.

 

“Fascinating, we didn’t do anything like that when I went to school,” he says and when dad went to school they were still discovering stuff left right and centre, it took a while to trickle into mainstream education.  “Right, that’s good son,” and I nearly flinch at that familial reminder, “I just wanted to tell you I’m proud of you, you did good at the game.”

 

I nod, because that’s what I’m expected to do, and I really want it to be true, for dad to really be proud of me, but if he ever found out about Stella he’d be upset because I’m not right and it’ll end up tanking his career.

 

And my brain helpfully points out that Scott is on the Lacrosse team and Scott does well on the Lacrosse team, so dad is only seeing the parallels, he’s not really proud of me, I’m too much of a proven disappointment.

 

I stare down at the floor and wait.

 

“Okay, I’m going to go do the laundry, I’ve fallen behind on my list of the chores, and I’ll cook tonight,” he stands there for a few minutes but I don’t say anything and then he leaves.

 

I go back to my homework and ignore how my hands are shaking or how my eyes sting like I want to cry.  I refuse to cry.  I bottle it up and keep going.

 

He really does cook dinner and I get called down to eat it, he keeps talking to me, asking me how school is, I stick to variations of, “I’m fine,” and “It’s fine.”

 

Volunteering to wash up I clear the table, and I try not to heave as the food in my stomach keeps trying to come up again, I have to keep it down, down is healthy, down is good.

 

Putting the last plate away I turn and he’s studying me.  Crap, he’s good at investigating things, if he thinks something is off he’ll pounce on me, he’ll dig until he gets to the truth.

 

“I have homework,” I tell him and go to the stairs, he’s sighing again and I know I’ve fucked up somehow.

 

Steadily I go through all the assignments, and I have Mr Harris’ crappy report ready for him, the sooner I can get that handed in the better.  I’m part way through Physics when dad knocks on my open door, “I’m going to bed, don’t stay up too late, you have school in the morning.”

 

“Yes sir, I just have this to do,” I point to the textbook.

 

“Okay, sleep tight Stiles,” he says and waits.

 

“Yes sir, goodnight sir,” I shove my nose back into my work and I hear him sigh again, I’ve done something else wrong.  He walks off and I breathe out as I hear what could be a faint creak from the roof, like someone shifted their weight up there, stupid eavesdropping werewolves.

 

Completing my Physics homework I put it in the pile to hand in, its two weeks early, but it gets rid of it for me.  Then I go to bed, well I curl up on my bed but I can’t sleep.  I hear dad’s alarm go off and I hear him shuffling around.  I wait for my alarm and only then do I get up.

 

I’m tired and I don’t feel right, but then I’m a freak, so what do I expect.  I get my school stuff ready and I force down pills and food, then I go to school and try to survive for just a little bit longer.


	7. Chapter 7

Finally.

 

I can see my escape route, it’s there, right in front of me.  All week I’ve done my best to blend in and not call attention to me, to hand in homework almost right after it’s assigned, to go to practice, to keep up with my new courses, to stay on track with my schedule.

 

And now it’s Friday and I just want to fall to the floor, I’m so tired, I’ve got a huge headache, I’m cold, the room occasionally spins on me, I’ve got homework to do, I have to get up tomorrow because I have a game to play, luckily a home game and the guys are telling me how I’ll win the game again, are they crazy, since when am I anyone’s hope for anything other than being a screw up?

 

All I have to do is get through those doors, stumble to my jeep and get home without crashing, I can almost taste the freedom now…

 

“Mr Stilinski, a word,” it’s Mr Harris.

 

Crap.

 

Pasting on a neutral expression I trudge after him and end up in an empty classroom, he’s probably going to give me detention for breathing, he really hates me.

 

“Take a seat Mr Stilinski,” he says and I slump into a seat and wait.

 

He paces a few times and looks vaguely uncomfortable, “Mr Stilinski I would never say that you are one of my favourite students, in fact I’d prefer to never have to teach you again, ever,” see he hates me.  “That said I am your teacher and I have noticed a marked and abrupt change in your behaviour,” oh god, no, no, do not let Mr Harris know about me.

 

My heart starts beating faster and the shot of adrenaline to my system wakes me up a little.

 

“I know you don’t like me any more than I like you,” he stops pacing and perches on the edge of the teacher’s desk, “So I extremely doubt that you trust me, but… I am an adult, and if you need to tell me anything, anything at all, I will listen and I will then bring it to the attention of those that need to know, if you will allow me to do so, and from there we can find a way to face whatever it is,” is he being nice to me?

 

“Mr Stilinski, you are not alone…” I’m completely stunned, of all the teachers to notice, first it’s Coach Finstock and now Mr Harris?  “I want you think long and hard about this, because whatever it is that you’re dealing with is clearly big and huge and probably scary.  Sometimes the first step is to realise there is something there you can’t deal with on your own, that you need some kind of help,” and his voice softens, he’s not talking to me anymore, it’s like he’s lost in his own head, “You’ll make stupid choices, things you’ll regret, but if you just reach out…”

 

Snapping out of it he looks at me, “Just think about it, if you can’t talk to me, then talk to someone else, someone you can trust, but please talk to someone.”

 

I nod, not that I’m admitting to anything being other than fine and I’m dismissed.  The drive home is uneventful and I’m so keyed up I can’t eat, I was barely able to keep the damn tiny baby apple I had at lunch down so I slink up the stairs and get ready to do homework.

 

Opening my bedroom door I freeze in surprise when I see Peter sitting at my computer desk like he’s supposed to be there.  My window is shut and Peter’s already taken his coat and shoes off like he’s a proper visitor instead of a creeper.

 

“Hello Stiles,” he smiles at me and that is seriously not cool, he looks normal and not a murdering psycho when he smiles.

 

Unfreezing I stand there and wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do.  I can’t run to Scott, I can’t run to Derek, and there is a creepy ‘I came back from the dead’ werewolf sitting in my room like he belongs there.

 

“You look tired,” he says and I have zero comeback for him, “I noticed you didn’t stop to eat on the way up, when was the last time you ate?” He’s cocked his head to one side and he’s studying me.

 

God I am so tired, “Lunch, I ate at lunch,” which is totally true.

 

“Hmm, that’s good, I’d hate to think that denying who you are had moved on from the lack of sleeping, and acting like an emotionless robot, to adding an eating disorder to your issues too,” he leans back in my chair seemingly at ease.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I go for total denial.

 

He sighs, “Stiles, we both know I can hear your heartbeat, and we both know you’re lying.  And we both know what you’re lying about.”

 

Stella.

 

I can’t let her out, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.  Snapping out of it I shake my head because the simple truth is that I can’t be me, not here, not now, I have to get out of Beacon Hills, I have to get away, I have to protect my dad, people won’t understand about me and they’ll punish him, I have to not screw up.

 

“I’ve spoken to Derek,” he says and I stiffen ramming down as much of me as I can, he can’t see any weakness or cracks, he’ll rip into me through them.  “He’s still a thick headed idiot, but he’s starting to realise just how wrong he was to destroy your dress, to mock you, and how much damage he could have done to you.  Of course your rather impressive little bouts of violence on the lacrosse field have shaken him, that coupled with you being a robot and smelling like you’re mortally wounded have convinced him I’m right,” and he sounds like thinking he’s anything but right is unthinkable.

 

“And I have on offer to make to you,” he’s unruffled and calm and I glance up at him.  “He finally acknowledges that Scott has cut you off, for whatever stupid reason, and we have all discussed it, it’s unanimous we would like you to join our Pack, as our human member.  The Betas don’t know about your duality, no that’s not right, more your fuller gender and personality, but they will accept you as you, of that I’m sure.”

 

He sits forward on the chair and I’m reeling with the information that they want me to join their Pack, “If anyone can come anywhere close to understanding you it will be werewolves, we are human but wolf, intellect but instinct, we should be two separate sides of a coin but we are the whole coin.”

 

It sounds pretty, and I’m tired of being lonely, of being on my own, but I have my plan to escape this life, I have my dad, Mrs McCall, and Scott to think about.  I can’t just betray Scott and go join Derek’s Pack.

 

“We also offer that you will not be dragged into any conflicts we might have with Scott, you’ve grown up thinking he’s your brother after all, that would be unfair, you shouldn’t have to divide your loyalties,” and for a second I actually wonder if he’s telling me the truth or playing me, this is too good to be true.

 

“What’s the catch?” I ask warily, I don’t trust Peter, and Derek’s never hidden how much he dislikes me, how much he doesn’t trust me.

 

A very sneaky smile flits across Peter’s face, “The catch is that you become our hugging mascot, we get human touch from you,” I have no idea what the hell he is talking about, my brain is fuzzy right now and I give him my confused face.  He stands up and walks towards me, “Let me show you,” and I stupidly stand there.

 

My hands are guided around his body and under his shirt so they both sit just above his pants and his skin is ridiculously soft and scalding hot to my cold fingers.  His hands do the same to me and I jump as his hands rest on my back.  Peter shudders and then his nose is buried in my neck, “Like this,” he breathes out over my neck and I shiver, “This is what we need from you the most, simple human touch.”

 

Nuzzling into my neck he carries on talking, “Did you know that werewolf packs are very tactile?  We touch constantly; it allows our scents to mingle and helps to strengthen the emotional bonds between us all.  Any humans in a pack are our touchstones, the ones we go to for that extra something, they ground us, they often become our anchors, without touch we go insane.” His hands twitch on my back but I’m frozen in place and try not to think about the claws he can grow that could rip my spine out of my back.

 

“It doesn’t justify what I did, what I became, and frankly I’m still not sane, but I spent years trapped in a burnt and broken body and no one touched me, ever, I’d gone from family and love and touch, to nothing and only their dying screams in my head to keep me company,” his arms tighten, “It doesn’t excuse what I did and I really don’t care, but you need to understand why we need you Stiles, why you are essential to us.”

 

“Okay,” I can see how my hugging skills could come in handy, Stilinskis give awesome hugs, it’s one of the few things I’m still confident about myself, something I don’t have to hide, if I had someone to hug I’d be hugging them a lot.

 

“It’s also why Scott’s being so incredibly stupid,” Peter’s voice is murmured straight into my ear, “He needs the bond to an Alpha, but his instincts understand that he needs human touch too, it’s why he’s cleaving to the Argent brat so tightly, to the point that he abandoned his brother to keep her.  He’s staving off insanity, but it won’t last forever, he needs Derek, he needs an Alpha, he could survive for years but eventually he’ll snap and the Argents will be able to crow about how they were right and all werewolves need to be put down, they’ll cite how nice and sweet and puppy like Scott was and how the werewolf in him destroyed his humanity.”

 

Scott would rather eat wolfsbane than side with Derek, but in a way it makes me feel better, he’s trying to survive, he didn’t mean to abandon me he’s… Wait, why am I trusting Peter Hale?

 

“Also we can offer you what Scott can’t yet.  We can offer you a safe place for you to let Stella out, to be the girl/boy that you are.  To embrace all of you at once and not bow down to the narrow view of gender that society has,” and that knocks the breath from me.

 

Crap.

 

Really?

 

Somewhere to be me?  All of me?  Can I be that selfish?  Can I grab it with both hands and say screw you to the world?

 

“I…” What do I do?  I’ve come to the realisation that I can’t keep carrying on the way I am, I’m going to die of exhaustion long before I get out of here, and I can’t keep hiding in my room.

 

“Want to sleep on it?” He asks and lets me go, my back feels colder without his hands there, “I brought you a present,” he goes to where he put his coat and shoes and rummages for a bag, “Ah here it is,” he hands the bag to me, “Go on Stiles, open it.”

 

Well it can’t be a bear trap, it’s too small, I peer in the bag and there’s something wrapped in blue tissue paper in there.  Dumping it on the bed, to be on the safe side, I unwrap the tissue paper to find a set of pyjamas, they’re a soft material and they’re blue.  They’re neither masculine nor feminine, I could wear these and get away with it, no one would know, they’d assume they were for boys.

 

“I…” Oh my god, I can’t can I?  And what the hell does it say that I’m accepting this from Peter of all people?

 

“I guessed at the size, but I shouldn’t be that far off,” he’s undoing his shirt and I may make a squeaking noise. “Stiles, part of the touch thing is that we all get to sleep with you, and by sleep I mean sleep, nothing athletic you little jailbait temptation,” the shirt falls away to show off his perfect fucking werewolf abs.  When his hands reach for his belt I make another squeaking noise, oh my god, please let him be wearing underwear.  He is, in red and they’re tight.

 

“I…” Oh my god, is this even real?

 

He shoos his hands towards me, “Go, go and get changed for bed, I’ll make you some soup, you will eat, you will sleep and in the morning you’ll be refreshed and you’ll be ready to take on your opponents on the lacrosse field.”

 

“Homework,” I blurt, “I have homework to do tonight.”

 

“Really?” He lifts an eyebrow, “Stiles you’re exhausted, your concentration will be shot, if you can get some sleep you’ll power through your homework in the morning, you’ll get far more done when you’re rested than when you’re close to collapse.” He gestures to me and then points my bedroom door, “Now go change, don’t make me phone Derek and get him to come help you get ready for bed.”

 

I flee for the bathroom and I’m changed before I realise what I’ve done and then I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I look gaunt and tired, drained, wasted.  The material of the sleepwear is so soft on my skin and for the first time in days, weeks, part of me balances out. I’m not at war with myself.  The top has the shoulders in it, the pants are long and all the way down my legs, there is nothing inappropriate about these, except they came from Peter and they’re perfect for me, all of me.

 

Oh god.

 

I’m going to say yes to Derek and I feel like a traitor for it, but I can’t keep going, I’m only human and I can’t keep this up much longer.

 

I only need to be part of the Pack until I graduate, which will be soon, and then I can escape Beacon Hills, I can get out, I can find a place to be me, somewhere that won’t hurt those I love, and it’s pretty obvious that once I’m gone things will be better for them too.

 

Grabbing my clothes that are scattered on the bathroom floor, I shuffle back to my room and I’m not sure what to do now.  Wrapping my arms around me I wait and then I hear the soft tread on the stairs leading up to my room.

 

Peter walks in carrying a tray with a bowl of soup, it’s vegetable.  The steam is rising from it and within seconds I can smell it.  I’m too worked up to eat it but I appreciate that he’s trying.

 

Wait, why am I trusting him again?  He could just be getting ready to poison me so he can hurt Scott or my dad or…  I’m reaching now, there’s no way my dad would give a damn he’d be able to have Scott to himself and not have to worry about the sorry excuse of a son.

 

With that in mind I reach for the poisoned soup and sit on the computer chair to eat my last meal.

 

As last meals go its damn good and I struggle to eat it at first, my stomach protests but then settles shortly afterwards, the warmth of the soup radiates out and I sigh happily at something as simple as a full stomach.

 

“Good?” Peter’s voice breaks the moment and I jump in surprise.

 

He’s sitting on the edge of my bed in just his underpants, bright red underpants, and damn it, those bloody werewolf abs are on show, along with his various other well defined muscles that werewolves all seem to have.

 

I realise he’s waiting for me to say something, “Err, yeah, it’s good,” I pause and then add, “Thanks.”

 

“Excellent, well I’ll go wash that up and it’s time for bed, you have homework tomorrow and then a big game,” he grabs the empty bowl and strolls out taking the tray with him, my stomach knots up as I stare at the bed and wonder how this is even supposed to work.

 

He’s soon back, and manages to get me into bed without much fuss from me, I’m so tired now I can’t think properly.  We lay down and he tucks us in and then he moves so he’s the little spoon.  I didn’t think it was possible for someone to aggressively little spoon but Peter does.  I have to wrap my arms around him and tuck his body in close to mine.  His remarkably hot body, as in temperature, as in the heat from the soup and the heat from him gang up on me and I close my eyes just for a second...

 

*

 

To wake up to a warm snugly pillow or giant teddy bear in my bed and in my arms.  God that feels so good and I wiggle in closer to cling to it.

 

Something is niggling at me.

 

I ignore it, it can’t be that important and the heat on my front is making me drowsy.  The chances of me ever being able to lay in are slim so I make the most of it and drift off again.

 

*

 

The soft sounds of someone breathing near me wake me up with a start and I tighten my grip on the warm body in my arms.

 

Urgh I really don’t want to wake up.

 

I’ve been so tired and I feel like I’ve just had a great night’s sleep.  I don’t get those that often.  Resolutely I smooch my face into the warm neck in front of me, I refuse to get up.

 

Relaxing again I let my breathing fall into the same pattern as the breathing near me, nice and slow and deep and...

 

Wait...

 

Breathing near mine?

 

Did I make up with Scott?

 

I don’t remember making up with Scott.  Scott’s the only person I’ve ever spent the night with and that’s a depressing thought, I’ve only ever slept with someone I consider to be my brother and it was totally platonic.

 

It’s an effort to open my eyes and it’s so damn warm and comfortable in bed right now.  All I can see is a head of brown hair, but it’s too light to be Scott, and finally I remember yesterday, and Peter.

 

Peter.

 

Peter Freaking Hale is in my bed, in my arms, in very tight red underpants.

 

I don’t remember moving but I must have thrown myself backwards because I’m soon flailing and then I crash to the ground in a heap.  Blinking stupidly I stare the edge of the bed where Peter’s face is slowly appearing, he stares down at me, “I take it you slept well.  You look better today.”

 

“Err...” I really don’t know how to handle having him in my bed, human touch excuse or not.

 

“I’ll make breakfast while you have a shower,” he tells me and shoos me into the bathroom, I have got to stop letting him push me around.

 

Since I do need a shower I get in and turn the water on.  It cascades over me and let it wake me up even more. For the first time in days, weeks, I’m not drained, I have energy, energy I can use to freak out in the shower.

 

Peter Freaking Hale is in my house, he was in my bed and that prompts me to hastily check my ass just in case, but it feels like it normally does and nothing hurts.  In fact when I check out my body I notice that the only bruises I have left are the recent ones from Lacrosse, Trent hasn’t been locker checking me since I rejoined the team.

 

Well that’s a bonus.

 

And then I remember that I’ve agreed to join Derek’s pack.

 

Crap.

 

Turning off the water I dry myself and try to list pros and cons of being in Scott’s pack verses Derek’s pack.  If I’m honest though I’ve not been in Scott’s pack for a long time, and if Peter’s right, which is a big if, I might be able to get away with letting Stella out for short little visits.  There is no way in hell I’m telling the three Betas about her, but if Peter and Derek already know then it won’t matter if I slip occasionally, I’ll have to work hard to keep her hidden anywhere else but...

 

Damn it.

 

Sitting on the side of the bath I put my head in my hands, I’m still tired, still exhausted and confused, still not normal but then neither are Derek or Peter.  Except if I take them up on this there is nothing to guarantee that Derek won’t make my life hell or that Peter won’t use this against me to get back at me and also at Scott.

 

Plus in a way I’m betraying Scott.

 

We’ve been BFFs since I can remember and I know in my heart I’m going to do this.  Scott’s picked the Argents over me, even though Mr Argent has slammed me into hospital walls and Gerard Argent beat the shit out of me and also threatened Scott’s mom.

 

So course that’s when I notice the only clothes I have are my pyjamas or a towel.  Damn it.  Pulling on the PJ bottoms I crack open the bathroom door and peer out, the hallway is empty and I sneak to my bedroom, still nothing.

 

Throwing on clothes that don’t smell too much I go downstairs to go find where the creeper wolf of the undead kind is lurking.

 

He’s in the kitchen and he’s made me breakfast.  Breakfast that is made up of fruit and then followed by scrambled eggs.

 

“Ah there you are my newest Pack member,” he beams at me and that’s more scary than when he’s being psychotic, “Come along my dear Stiles Stella Stilinski, eat up, you’ll need your strength for all that extra homework you have and for your big game later today.”

 

Homework.

 

Shit I didn’t do any last night I just collapsed into bed with Peter, I wince at the thought, ridiculously early and then slept the evening and night away.  Wow I never sleep for that long, I can’t because of the ADHD and the meds I’m on.

 

Sitting at the table I start eating automatically and then blink because he called me Stiles and Stella, like he’s accepted me, which isn’t that hard a stretch of my imagination, he did the same in my bedroom when he surprised me in my dress, my heart clenches at the reminder of my first dress and my anxiety of being anywhere near Derek rises.

 

“Calm down little one,” and Peter sits down opposite me, he’s still in just those tight red trunks and I give him really good eye to eye contact.  He sips his tea and I eat in silence.

 

The fruit is fresh and I know it wasn’t in our pantry, the eggs are perfect and fluffy, and the whole thing is so way out there on the weirdness scale I have no reference or experience on how to deal with this.

 

Scrapping the last piece of egg off of the plate I put the fork down, “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” he smiles at me over his mug and I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall when someone knocks on the back door.  “Ah that would be Derek our illustrious Alpha and Leader,” he’s mocking his nephew knowing full well that Derek will be able to hear him.

 

Oh crap.

 

I freeze at the table and Peter all but skips off in those red trucks to let his nephew into my house. I knew there was going to be a price to pay and I’m about to pay it.

 

Screw it.

 

I brace my shoulders and sit up straighter, I’ve put up with people laughing at me my whole life mostly for being clumsy and having zero focus or brain to mouth filter, I can take Derek ridiculing me for being part girl part boy.

 

The backdoor closes and then someone is stomping angrily up the stairs, it must be Peter because Derek appears in the doorway, he’s got his leather jacket on and it’s still hot out, guess taking it off messes with his bad boy image.

 

We sit there, well I sit there, he stands, staring at each other and listening to the thumps from my room and then Peter’s stomping back down the stairs.  Luckily he’s dressed now and he’s annoyingly perfectly put together. He brushes past Derek and sits back down to drink his tea, “Please tell me you two didn’t just waste all the time I was dressing by only staring at each other and not talking?  Except I know I didn’t hear any talking going on...”

 

It’s such an obvious hint and one that Derek scowls at, then he clears his throat, “Stiles, Peter says you’ve accepted our group invitation to join our Pack,” and I know it can’t be a prank now, that’s not Derek’s style, he’s not sneaky, oh he can use his looks to get what he wants, but if you know him, and I do, well a bit, he’s so damn obvious about it. “And I wanted to say welcome and that I’ve been working with contractors on my house…” He trails off awkwardly.

 

“What he means is,” Peter steps in, “That while we are going to work on the original Hale property it’s only going to be a club house, a place we can get away.  Derek has bought a nice property on the edge of town with some wooded areas, there will be plenty of room for you at all times, it will also be Isaac’s home so he can invest the money from his family home and he can use it for college for whatever future plans he has.”

 

So this means Derek isn’t living in the house of doom and gloom and being forced to confront his family’s ghosts all of the time?  That has to be healthier for him, as long as he deals with it right.

 

“There are quite a few rooms with big wardrobes in them and they’re earmarked for ensuite bathrooms,” Peter’s still talking, “One of them would be perfect for you, you can keep all of your clothes there, the boy clothes,” he pauses and I stiffen in shock and a bit of horror, “And the girl clothes, I did say you could be yourself there, all of yourself whether boy or girl.”

 

Oh my god.

 

My heart is thundering in my chest and I wait for the comments from Derek but he’s standing there quietly, calmly and he doesn’t have his judgy face on, he’s not shut his face down to his unreadable poker face either.

 

Peter finishes his tea with a flourish and stands up, “You could always paint your room in the Pack house pink…”

 

“Dude!” The response from me is automatic, “No, not pink, I don’t care that they sell it as a girl’s colour…” And then I falter because that could be taken as my declaration of being a girl, I’ve hidden me for so long, I’ve read the news, I’ve been on websites and heard first-hand accounts of what happens to transsexuals, of being born in the wrong type of body.

 

“You can paint it any colour you want,” Is Derek’s contribution to my mini crisis moment, “And…” Derek looks embarrassed and unhappy, “I’m sorry I destroyed your clothing, I didn’t understand and I was wrong.”

 

And then he’s gone, stepping back and fading down the hallway.  My jaw is hanging open and I hear the faint snick of the backdoor closing.  I was not expecting that, and there’s a tiny tendril of hope, that maybe, just maybe I might find somewhere I can be me.

 

A snort from the kitchen has me remembering that Peter is still here, “Honestly if he can’t make an entrance he’ll make a flashy exit instead,” and I find that hypocritical coming from Peter of all people.  “Well I have to go too, we’ll see you at the game tonight, good luck with your homework,” and with that he waltzes out of the kitchen and heads for the backdoor with as much drama as he can muster, which is considerable.

 

I’m left sitting at the kitchen table wondering if any of that was real or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for deleting this by accident, oh god, people shouldn't let me near technology...


	8. Chapter 8

Cheering and yelling is coming from the side-lines and the crowd is screaming its approval as Isaac scores again.  We’re starting to stomp all over the competition and it helps that the opposing team are shadowing me so hard that they’re leaving giant gaps for my team to jump through and score with.

 

Scott and Jackson look miserable on the bench and I try not to gloat to myself too much, after all I know what it’s like to sit there and it’s not nice.  Being on the field is much more fun.  And it serves them right for not pulling together with the team.

 

Half time happens and we walk off the field for a short break, Coach is ecstatic and wants us to keep pushing, “And don’t forget they’re covering our MVP Bilinski so much they’re leaving themselves wide open for the rest of you to grind them into the mud,” the guys all cheer and I get nods sent my way, I have no idea why, I’m not doing anything except running around uselessly and trying not to fall flat on my face.

 

The next half starts and our opponents still waste resources on me, not that they do a hell of a good job, I manage to sneak past a few of them and scoop up the ball, I look for someone to throw it to but there’s no one close, instead I bolt for the goal.  Running around with werewolves in the past has sharpened my reflexes and I dodge some defenders to get the ball in the back of the net.

 

Turning around I get to see my team jumping up and down in joy while the other team are being screamed at by their coach, the words, “One job, just one job, keep the kid out of play!”  The man is pointing in my direction and I can’t see anyone other than Greenburg near me, I didn’t think Greenburg was that good a player, I shrug and then spend the rest of the game surrounded by their players and feeling like I’ve got my own not so secret service people to defend me.

 

Okay so I know they’re not here to defend me but it’s suffocating to be in the middle of them and it helps put it out of my mind.

 

We win the game and I stand there enduring the slaps on the back from my team mates, even Scott stands near me and gives me a smile, which fades and gets replaced by a frown, “Why do you smell like Peter?” He leans in to ask and I can’t bring myself to tell him I’ve deserted him to go play in Derek’s sandbox, so I sidle away and stand near Danny.

 

“Hey that was an amazing goal! You can really move when you want to.” He congratulates me and smiles widely.

 

“It was nothing,” I brush it off, “Did you see all the goals you caught, dude that was amazing,” and it was, but then that’s Danny, he’s just naturally amazing.

 

“Yeah,” he accepts and then laughs, “Come on lets go gloat at how terrible our opponents were.”

 

The whole team gets in on it and the locker room is buzzing with guys being boisterous and boosting about their awesome moves and how the whole game hung on them and them alone.  Showering I wander out to get dressed and mentally run over my schedule for the weekend.

 

Peter has derailed it nicely and in theory I should have lost a complete evening, except with that much sleep I was able to charge through my homework and assignments, so I didn’t lose that much time.  The game tonight fills my quota for exercise, in effect I have some wiggle room on studying.  It’s certainly something that is making me glad I said I’d join Derek’s pack, more consistent sleep can only help me in the long run and I’ll appear more normal without bags under my eyes and looking so washed out and half dead.

 

Coach ‘debriefs’ us and makes a fuss over my huge efforts of one goal and being an excellent distraction that pulled so many of their players away from the main field.  I’m beginning to think I could have gotten a lawn chair and read while on the field and I’d still have made a ‘giant contribution’ to the team this evening.

 

Dismissed I grab my bag and go to leave but Danny intercepts me, “Stiles, come on, you cannot have homework again tonight,” he gives me another of his smiles and there’s something off about it, “Just come to the party, even if it’s for an hour.”

 

How many times did I used to wish that someone like Danny would ask me to go to the main party afterwards?  He’s gorgeous, smart, hot as hell, and so damn nice he’s made of sugar and spice, or something else poetical.

 

“I...” I know he only likes me because I was quiet for a while, he doesn’t normally like me, and maybe that’s the key to this, go to the party, pretend I’m a normal teenage boy, stay for a few hours, go home, do homework and I can bluff the rest of my high school career, I can fit in, not stick out, and then get the hell out of Beacon Hills with glowing reports and recommendations.  “Okay, but only for a few hours.”

 

“Great, I’ll see you there,” and he beams at me like I’ve made his day.  I don’t understand it, but I play along and leave the locker room alone.

 

*

 

Oh my god, why the hell did I ever want to go to these things?   I’m not drinking so watching everyone else get drunk, and in some cases high as kites, is so much more boring than I ever realised it could be.  And the girls are all being so damn dumb and dull, there was a reason I had a crush on Lydia, at least she’s smart, the girls that keep cornering me and giggling are acting so stupid I want to smack my head against a wall.

 

It doesn’t help that I’ve managed to accidently overhear them all plotting to somehow wrangle a date out of me so they can climb the social ladder by being with me, none of them even knows me or likes me, they only want me because the team seems to think I’m an amazing player, and top jocks are dateable and sexy.

 

Before things went south with Scott I’d be totally up for these nubile things using me for my body and popularity, anything just to have sex.  But now it’s like I’m seeing the whole thing with new eyes and I want nothing to do with them, plus I’d be so busy hiding Stella that I’d never be able to enjoy being around whatever unlucky girl was saddled with me.  Or I’d give myself away and then I’d end up destroying the girl I was with, my dad and everyone else, so perhaps it’s better this way.

 

Hiding from them I snag some lemonade and vanish outside, I avoid a few more people and then look at my watch, how much longer until I can escape for the night?

 

“Hey,” Danny says from behind me and I jump a mile and squeak in shock, “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” he’s standing there beer bottle in hand and there’s still something off about him.

 

“’S’Cool,” I wave it off and then freeze, I can’t be too loud around Danny he doesn’t like that, he likes the lie of me being quiet.  “So...” Crap how do normal people talk?  I’m so used to Scott or something supernatural that I just ramble and say what I want when I want, in most cases that tends to get me hit by something supernatural...

 

Mentally I grope for a topic but the only things Danny and I have in common are school and Lacrosse, “So...” I repeat, “Good game...” And then I wince because that was lame.

 

He takes pity on me and we really do discus the game, and Danny’s natural brains show, the way he observed both teams, weakness and strengths even his own, and that’s always harder for people to admit to.

 

Greenburg and a few of the guys find us talking and join in, I’m not used to this, not only are my team talking to me they keep turning to me and asking my opinions on things, it’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone or some alternate universe.

 

Isaac and Boyd wander up and flank me, for a few minutes I’m tense but they chat too and I start to relax.

 

A loud crash comes from nearby followed by a male yell of pain.  Storming around a corner Erika stalks towards us and pushes between me and Boyd, her top is torn on one side and she’s furious, which is always a scary prospect, I pity the idiot that thought he could take her on.

 

Speaking of idiots a senior limps around the corner and even in the growing twilight I can see the growing bruise mottling one side of his face, his features are twisted with rage and he points at Erika, “Bitch!” Wow he has no idea how right he is.  “Fucking bitch I am so gonna show you.”

 

And now the torn top is making more sense, there have been rumours about this guy, rumours I’m not supposed to know about, but hey, I’m curious about things.  Rumours that have complaints about him not taking no for an answer and being a bit too handsy with girls, but it’s hidden behind them getting very drunk and not remembering giving any kind of consent to the bastard.

 

I don’t even think about it, I step in his way and shield her behind me, the fact that she could bench press both of us and kill us with those sharp talons doesn’t matter, she shouldn’t be pressured into anything and the part of me that’s Stella has often seen things that guys shrug off as nothing and I do understood just what assholes some guys can be, “Show her what?” I challenge him.

 

“Out of my way freak,” he tries to push me away and I stand my ground as much as I can, I’ve been working out, and I may be skinny but guys routinely slam into me, I’m harder to move than you’d think.

 

“No, I want to know what you want to show Erika, because let’s face it, it can’t be that interesting if the only way you can ‘show’ anyone is if they’re so drunk they can’t fight back,” whoa where the hell did that come from? My brain to mouth filter is more offline than normal.

 

Various guys laugh at my insults and the idiot in front of me goes a shade of red and purple I’m sure isn’t natural, hey maybe he’s supernatural too, a special kind of weredouche.  “Fuck you Stilinski!” Is his only comeback.

 

I deliberately wait a few seconds and then grin at him, “Nah, you’re not my type, I like ‘em pretty and smart, plus you’re too much of a coward for my taste,” if anything his face goes darker and then he telegraphs a punch at me.

 

Seriously?

 

Urgh, dad made me do some self defence, and yes I didn’t fight back with Gerard, but the guy put me off, this idiot though?  Oh this one gets a punch back and he falls to the ground gripping his jaw, “Get lost,” I tell him, “And leave Erika and all the other girls the fuck alone, grow a personality that hasn’t crawled out from under a rock and you might get a girlfriend the normal way.”

 

He scrambles to his feet and flees the scene while I massage my fist and walk back to the group, they’re giving me approving nods and I get a few more back slaps.  “Damn it,” I whine, “I think I broke my fist,” I shake it and wince at the pain, I am not built for all this violence.

 

“Dude that was an awesome punch,” Greenburg says and then smirks at Erika, “Guess that makes Stilinski your hero.”

 

Snorting at him I shake my head, “I doubt that, Erika’s more than capable of ripping that guy’s balls off and feeding them to him,” it’s a little graphic but she could so do that.

 

“Hmm,” she stretches and gives her best feral grin, Greenburg takes a sensible step back out of reach and his reaction makes her smile wider.

 

The sound of falling furniture and breaking crockery comes from the house and I hide a sigh as the music gets turned up higher as if someone is trying to mask the noise.  Great dad’s going to get called and then I’m going to be busted.

 

Looking in the windows I can see Scott and Allison plastered against each other and swaying with the music, though they’re moving a lot slower than the tempo currently playing.  He’s so wrapped up in her I doubt he noticed the party going to hell in a hand basket, normally it would be up to me to pull him out of it, but screw it, he’s chosen Allison over me, he’d prefer to shack up with her than have anything to do with me.

 

“I’m outta here,” I say loudly and begin listing homework in my head, I’ll do a small assignment when I get home.

 

“Yeah,” Greenburg nods and then frowns, “So where are we going?”

 

What?

 

“Bowling,” Erika says and that gets nods all round, though I’m baffled as to why they’re all bailing on the party too, and anyway the bowling alley will be packed, and why am I even thinking that?  It’s not like I’m going too.

 

“Good, I’ll see you all there,” Danny grins and steps up to me, “Hey I’ve been drinking, and Jackson was my lift,” he gives me sad eyes and then glances at the house, the same house where I can see Jackson and Lydia wrapped up around each other, “So...”

 

Oh my god, Danny wants me to hang out with them bowling?  Seriously?  I know he only wants me there because I’ve not been babbling like an idiot but...  But for a few seconds I wonder what Jackson being a werewolf has been like for Danny, they were always tight, always together, and thinking back, I’ve seen Danny on his own most of the time, maybe I’m not the only one that got abandoned, though I’m surprised anyone would abandon someone like Danny.

 

“Okay,” I agree and really this might help my plan of appearing normal, of fitting in, of hiding in plain sight.

 

In the jeep it’s just the two of us and he doesn’t say anything so I shut my mouth and try to keep to this new fantasy version of Stiles, it’s hard, really hard to not fill up the silence but I manage it and we walk in to the bowling alley.

 

I was right it is full and then everyone else arrives, which turns out to be half the party from the house, where the hell have all these people come from? We book six lanes, for those that want to play, and hit the arcade area while we wait.  Normally I’d peel off and go play video games with Scott and be ignored by everyone, yet now, Danny is hanging around as are the three werewolves and people keep coming up to talk to me. 

 

It’s surreal.

 

Eventually our lanes are free and we start bowling.  Scott was always useless at this, the amount of times he’s thrown it behind us, and we’ve had to have the kiddie barriers put up so he could get a ball down to hit the pins.  Well I may be a dick but I’m not cruel enough to play properly against him so I always dumbed down my game. I don’t bother in this crowd, and as the entire thing is simply a matter of angles and physics, I pick a ball and stick to it, this means I can learn where the weight in it is and how I need to aim to get strikes.

 

On my team are Danny, and the three wolves, Greenburg and two of the less giggly girls, who turn out to be good at bowling, so we slaughter the other teams and I’m surprised when at the end of the first game my score is pretty much perfect and I’m ahead of everyone.

 

“That’s awesome,” Danny pats my shoulder and bumps his lemonade bottle to mine, “With your score we can’t lose.”

 

Wow, my head swells at his complement and then I remember who I really am I tramp it down, “Nah, it wasn’t just me, have you seen your score?  Let alone the others of our team,” I use the bottle to point to the three wolves, Greenburg and the two girls who keep smiling at me and twiddling their fingers in their hair, which is unfair because I so want hair to be able to do that with.

 

We finished our game before anyone else so we hang around and I roll my eyes at some of the girls tottering around and being useless on the other teams, the annoying thing is I know some of them are cheerleaders and there is no way they’re that useless at hand eye coordination, inside my Stella side is even more annoyed at them dumbing themselves down for their boyfriend’s egos.

 

God men can be so fragile and you have to nurse them and their egos so much.

 

Stella is starting to rise up and I squash her down as much as I can, I can’t be anything other than Stiles right now, even if that version of Stiles isn’t really me either, this hiding yourself thing is so exhausting.

 

“STILES!” That sounds like my dad’s voice.

 

Flailing around, and nearly hitting Danny twice, I spin to see dad walking towards me, he’s in uniform and there are two Deputies hot on his heels, one of them I’ve known since I was in diapers the other is a newcomer. 

 

“Dad,” I squeak and I’m horribly conscious of the whole bowling alley coming to a screeching halt and falling into silence, oh well there goes my brief affair with being accepted by the popular crowd, I knew it couldn’t last, I really should have gone straight home from the party, or better yet, not turned up to the party in the first place.

 

He’s soon in front of me and everyone is watching us.

 

“The department got a call about the Mason’s place,” and that was where the party was being held, I can see Mason being ground for life over this, his parents were only out of town for two days.  “We shut the party down and confiscated a lot of alcohol, alcohol that underage teens shouldn’t have…”

 

I keep my mouth shut and wait, I try not twitch too much and I lean on Stella as much as I can without letting that side of me out, when I’m female I’m so much calmer and it must work as I don’t tense up.

 

“The kids had some drugs on them too,” he mentions and I realise what he’s doing, he’s dangling titbits and waiting for me to break and admit to things, damn it.

 

“Scott was there with Allison,” Is dropped in along with, “And that Lydia girl you like,” I’m starting to crack, my teeth grind together and I’m not going to last much longer, then I’ll implicate myself into something I’m actually innocent of and I’m make dad’s life even more of a hell than it already is.

 

“Jackson should have been there too,” Danny supplies helpfully, dad flicks his eyes to Danny and tilts his head like he’s waiting, “We left them all there to come bowling instead,” that gentle nice smile of Danny’s comes out, “And our team is beating everyone else’s,” he points to the scoreboards and yep we are light years ahead of the competition.

 

“Hmm,” Dad’s staring at the board, “Fine,” he nods at Danny, “Have fun with the rest of your game, it says there you bought another game?”

 

“Yes Sheriff,” Danny relaxes next to me and I wait to see what happens next, I have a bad feeling about his for some reason.

 

“Hope you folks have a good evening,” Dad is clearly saying to pretty much everyone in here, “Stiles.  Home. Now.”

 

Part of me wants to protest and say it’s unfair, instead I wrap my arms around my middle and try not to show how much that hurt me, that I’m being punished and it wasn’t even me, “Yes sir,” I stare down at my feet and say, “Danny, sorry I won’t be able to give you a lift home, are you okay getting a ride?”

 

“Yeah,” he sounds unhappy, “Sure, don’t worry about it Stiles…”

 

“’Kay,” I nod and keeping my eyes on the floor I head straight to the shoe check in, I toe off the bowling alley shoes and hand them over without a word, I then pull my own sneakers on and walk out of the place to my jeep.

 

I’m careful to drive home under the limit and after locking my baby I go to my room and collapse onto my bed.  Grabbing my pillow I scream into it and pound my fists on the mattress.

 

Eventually the tantrum passes and I lay there wallowing in my sorrows and vowing not to do that again.  No more going out, I have to stay home and either do homework or work out, I don’t get to have a normal life to hide behind.

 

Dad doesn’t come home until three in the morning, I listen to him walk in and come up the stairs, he pauses outside my room, but I’ve left the door open on purpose, he only has to pop his head around the frame to see that I’m here, that I’ve not disobeyed him.

 

His footsteps start up and he goes to his room, when his door shuts I breathe out and I hadn’t even realised I’d been holding my breath.

 

I slide my hand under my pillow and touch the PJs Peter got me, I know they look like they could belong to either a boy or a girl but I daren’t risk dad finding out about them, just in case, so I’ll have to keep them hidden and only get them out when I’m sure I’m alone.

 

Dawn starts creeping up on me and I’m still awake laying on my bed and wishing that I were dead, the world would be a better place without me in it.  Dad leaves the house at seven, and only then do I move, and that’s to hide my PJs.  I have homework to do, I have to get out of here, out of Beacon Hills, there’s nothing and nowhere here for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I am so sorry for the accidental deletion of this story, I reposted once I realised what I'd done, but you'll have lost your subscriptions, kudos and any comments you left. I really shouldn't be allowed to touch things, I am the woman who at the end of a fantastic holiday accidentally deleted all the photos off of her camera, luckily my friends were willing to share.  
> Again I am sorry and this story will be continuing. And if I haven't replied to any comments it's because my inbox is playing up and I can't really get to the comments :(


	9. Chapter 9

The hallways go silent as I walk through them, I’m not that surprised, it’s Monday morning and a special assembly has been called for a special ‘chat’ from the local Sheriff’s Department on the dangers of drugs and alcohol.  And to top that off I’ve heard how dad dragged everyone left at the party in and is holding charges above most of their heads.

 

Awesome.

 

Walking into the gym with the rest of the juniors I sit off to one side, coincidentally the spot furthest from where dad is about to lecture us all, distance won’t save me in the slightest and I wrap my arms around my middle as I stare down at the gym floor.

 

Maybe if I wish hard enough the floor will open up and I can fall into a giant hole, one that can close up on me and I can vanish never to be seen again.  Normally crushing sensations can trigger off panic attacks, instead I’m fantasying about dirt being forced down my throat as I’m buried alive, and then it would be over.

 

I tune out as much of the talk as I can, I’ve heard it so many times now, dad practices at home so I’ve had the versions where he forgets his lines or says the wrong word, or in one memorable case he burped, that one was hilarious.

 

At the end when we can leave I scram as fast as I can being careful not to look at people, at my locker I grab my things and go to class.  I spent Sunday at home catching up with my homework, I’m a little ahead so that’s good, I hand in my assignment from last week and get a bewildered teacher thanking me and muttering that it wasn’t due for another month.

 

Dashing between lessons I’m careful to avoid as many people as I can, passing an empty classroom I feel a big hand land on my shoulder, I’m spun around to see Trent and his cronies, and then I’m in the empty classroom with them.

 

Trent is standing there trying to look tough, but I’ve faced worse threats than him.  He swaggers up to where his two cronies are holding me in place, “Stinksi,” he says and cracks up as if making fun of my name is something new and original.  “Got busted by your daddy on Saturday.”

 

Him and a lot of kids in this school.

 

“My parents found out and then they found my drugs stash in my room,” he sneers it at me and my god he’s such a cartoon villain, “I had to endure them lecturing me and now I get to school to find your daddy lecturing us again,” I’m not sure what point he’s trying to make and lift an eyebrow at him. “This means I’m not happy you freak, and you’re gonna pay for it, because I know this is all your fault.”

 

Right.

 

It’s my fault he’s a stupid moron who can’t even work out how to safely stash whatever drugs he’s on, though suddenly his violent behaviour starts to make sense if he has a drug problem, and why he’s such a moron, drugs do tend to make a dent in the brain’s ability to work.

 

Huh.

 

And then as I’m securely held in place, he lashes out with a fist and it connects with my stomach driving the air out of my body. I grunt but that’s all I give Trent as his fist smashes into me a dozen times.  He’s not very good at this, at least Gerard knew what he was doing as he beat me in the Argent’s torture basement.

 

“Hey!” A female voice calls out and I’m suddenly dropped like a stone, I glance up to see the Spanish teacher standing there, her jaw has dropped open and then Mr Harris is standing behind her.

 

“What’s going on here?” The chemistry teacher demands.

 

“Nothing,” Trent mutters and gets overruled by the Spanish teacher who saw him punch me at least twice, and also saw Trent accost me to drag me into this classroom.

 

“The Principal’s office now,” Mr Harris says and I stagger to my feet wincing at the pain in my stomach, “Apart from you Mr Stilinski, you’re going to the nurse and depending on her verdict you may be going to the hospital.”

 

Oh my god, not the hospital, dad will be so disappointed if I end up in there.  Resigned I follow the Spanish teacher to the nurse, who examines me and pronounces me fit to go to the Principal’s office, no doubt to be punished.

 

It wasn’t even my fault.

 

Trent’s the biggest idiot in the history of idiots…

 

Sighing I trudge to the Principal’s office and take a seat by myself, Trent is sitting between his two cronies and looking way too smug for my liking.  Mr Harris is standing to one side as he confers with the Spanish teacher.

 

I’m quickly bored and I start to go over the dates of the Second World War to see how much of it I’ve memorised already, I’ve always wondered how the werewolves coped with having large armies invade their territories and lay waste to large areas as they grappled for land against each other.  Would the werewolves have joined in to get rid of the invaders? Or would they have lain as low as they could to escape detection?

 

I’m part of the way through the war when the door to the reception opens and a woman rushes in, “Oh god, I got a call about my Trent, is he here?  Is he okay?  Oh god, please let my baby be okay…”

 

And I thought the werewolves were dramatic by nature.

 

“Ah you’re here,” the Principal seemed to have been waiting for her, “This way, we need to talk about Trent’s behaviour,” the woman is ushered into the office and the door closed so we can’t hear what’s being said.  Trent, however, is frowning darkly at the door and his hands keep curling into fists.

 

Both Mr Harris and the Spanish teacher are watching him out of the corners of their eyes, I briefly wonder what they’re making of it and then the two cronies parents turn up, each of them has a pair of parents, so they weren’t simply spawned onto the earth to harass me and the other kids.  They join Trent’s mom in the Principal’s office and we go back to waiting.

 

Whatever’s being said through there is taking time and my dad arrives before they come out, Mr Harris meets him at the door and they go out into the corridor, that door is also closed and my stomach clenches at the thought of just how mad dad is going to be at me, he’s going to give me his disappointed face I know he is, and then he’ll spend even less time at the house.

 

Wrapping my arms around my middle I hunch my shoulders and draw my knees up to my chest.  That clearly isn’t working so I wrap my arms around the legs I’ve just brought up.  That’s better.  I rest my chin on my knees and try to go back to the WWII dates but my mind’s ability to focus is shot to hell more than it normally is.

 

Glancing up I see the Spanish teacher frowning as she stares at me and I jerk my eyes away, god even she can see what a screw up I am, how useless I must be and how I must be giving away Stella’s existence in everything I do, god dad is going to end up paying for this, again, one more Stiles Stilinski mess to explode in his life.

 

I’m literally the worst son in the whole world.

 

And then Mr Harris and my dad are walking in, “Stiles,” dad calls my name and I can’t hide the slight flinch, god I can’t look at him right now, I can’t see how much he hates me right now.

 

Someone sits next to me and it has to be dad except he’s not hugging me, and that tells me everything I need to know, he really does hate me now, he can’t even hug me anymore.

 

“Stiles,” and that’s dad’s voice but it’s not next to me, it’s in front of me.  I look up to see Mr Harris stopping my dad from coming to me, the person sitting next to me is the Spanish teacher and it’s like they’re keeping him away from me.

 

Weird.

 

It’s me they need to keep away from his life.

 

And that’s when the other parents all come out of the Principal’s office, they look absolutely shattered as the Principal tells them, “You understand my hands are tied here, your sons’ behaviours are so far out of line I cannot allow the other pupils to be placed at risk because of them, we’ve tried contacting you and all of you have avoided this, so please take your sons and leave the school, their letters of expulsion will follow.  Please feel free to take it up with the school governors but I will be informing them of everything that’s transpired and I extremely doubt they will let your sons back into this school.”

 

Oh my god.

 

For once in my life I have gossip, and I have no one I can tell it to.

 

The three kids and their parents are shooed out of the office and Trent’s mom looks dumbstruck like she can’t believe her son is a complete dick.  In the silence of their leaving we all stay still and then the Principal is clearing his throat, “Sheriff Stilinski,” and by the tone of his voice it sounds like dad’s in trouble, oh god I got dad into trouble again, I’m so shit as a son, and it’s not as if I’m a son because I’m a daughter too.

 

I’m so screwed up, and I’m screwing everyone else up too.

 

Dad is shown into the Principal’s office and Mr Harris takes the other seat next to mine, we sit in silence and I stay as curled up and protected as I can.  My eyes flick to the closed door over and over as I frantically try and think of anything I’ve done wrong recently.  I’ve been so good lately, I’m up to date with all my school work, I’ve not gone off on tangents, I’ve not missed any lessons, I’m back on the team which is doing well, I’ve not gone to parties except for this weekend, oh god it was this weekend wasn’t it.  Shit, shit, shit, I knew I shouldn’t have gone, I should have gone home and done homework.

 

Against the rules of physics I try and sink further into the seat as I grip my legs tighter. I’m so crap at handling situations like this that I don’t notice when Stella slips out and takes over, it’s not until I realise I’ve somehow crossed my ankles and that I’ve threaded my fingers together that I know I’m Stella now.  I’m outwardly calmer, the tension knotting my body is still there but I push past it and focus on my breathing to stave off an imminent session of hyperventilating.

 

The Spanish teacher is called in and I watch her go from under my eyelashes, these are the moments I wish I had long hair I could hide behind, but I don’t, though maybe I could grow it out a little, not much, Stiles is too lazy to do anything with my hair and Stella doesn’t really care about hair apart from wanting to do things like braid it.

 

“Mr Stilinski,” Mr Harris’ voice is low and soft, “I have something for you,” he hands me a little booklet, “Inside are various numbers and websites, please,” he emphasises the word, “Call one of them or visit one of the sites.  If you don’t feel safe or comfortable doing so at home, well we have school computers, I’ll make sure you have uninterrupted access, you just have to ask, or we have phones you can use here.”

 

Opening up the little booklet makes it unfold and there are numbers there for suicides hotlines, drug and alcohol addiction, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, and there’s something listed under the LGBT section, something called the Trevor Project.  I fold it back up and slip it into a pocket, “Thank you Mr Harris,” I tell him and my Stella side is very much in control, my tone and pitch is out of sync to Stiles, I just hope he doesn’t notice.

 

He nods and we sit a bit longer.

 

When the door to the office opens dad looks shaken and upset, this is bad, I’m in so much trouble and then he turns to the Principal, “Thank you, I’ll take Stiles to the hospital and get him double checked, he’ll be home sick today.”

 

They shake hands amicably and the Principal says, “Stiles, my door is always open if you need it, okay?”

 

“Yes sir,” Is the only response I have, because I’ve no idea why I’d go to the Principal’s office on my own anyway.  I go to follow dad and Mr Harris’ hand touches my shoulder, he squeezes slightly and nods to me, I think he’s being supportive so I give him a shy smile and wonder what the hell happened to him to make him be nice to me.

 

Dad doesn’t say anything as we walk out and I’m careful to keep my arms around my middle, to stay one step behind him and I’m startled when he takes me to my locker, I get my things and he even carries the stuff I take out, “The Principal said Coach Finstock would make sure anything of yours in the locker room was taken care of,” I nod and then, “So you okay to drive home? I’ll take you to the hospital afterwards?  Melissa should be on today.”

 

“I’m fine to drive home sir,” I stare down at my shoes and I’m glad that as Stella I don’t mind the footwear I’m in today.

 

“Okay son,” I hide my flinch at being called a boy and his son, because he’s already proved I’m too much of a disappointment to him when he stayed away at Christmas and threw the presents I got him in the trash.

 

We drive home and I drop my baby off and take my things inside, then we drive to the hospital in silence, a couple of times dad goes to say something but he stops and that’s another sign I’m not really his son anymore, not that I’m really a boy at the moment either.

 

At the hospital we wait to one side and I pull my legs up to wrap my arms around them, it’s so comfy like that and I can pillow my head on my knees.  I stare at the floor and start to count the tiles and make patterns out of them in my head.  Stella is still very much in control and I’m so much less of a fidget when I’m her, I also tend to daydream more as her, mostly about the kind of clothes I could buy when I leave this town, I think of the pretty dresses made out of all sorts of fabrics I could own and wear in the safety of my, as yet, unknown home.

 

It’s soothing and I know I’ve crossed my ankles and twined my fingers together as I sit there all scrunched up, it hurts my stomach and chest but it feels good to sit like this.

 

“Stiles.  Honey?” It’s Mrs McCall, “We’re ready now,” she beckons to me and I unravel myself wincing at the pull of my bruises, I’m going to have some spectacular colours on my front when they’ve finished blooming on my skin.

 

Mrs McCall leads me to a room and I look back to see dad sitting anxiously on the seat, he’s not coming with me and I stop in my tracks, “Dad?”  Why doesn’t he want to come in with me?

 

“It’s okay,” Mrs McCall lies to me, I know some of her tells and I take a few steps back, she softens and comes to me, “Really Stiles, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay, just let the doctor examine you and you can go home,” that one is the truth and I let her sweep me into the room.

 

There’s a doctor standing there, he’s reading a huge pile of notes, they must be mine, I had a lot of accidents when I was a kid, “Ah,” he pauses and studies my notes more, he’s either going to attempt to read my real name or he’ll wuss out and use my surname, “Mr Stilinski,” bingo, “Please take your t-shirts off and I’ll examine your stomach and chest for you…”

 

I zone out a little, he wants to see my chest, I’m female right now and he wants to see my female wrapped in a male body chest, in effect my boobs.  I’m sure there are rules against that.

 

Instinctively I wrap my arms around my breast area, it doesn’t matter that they are technically not boobs, that I’m flat there, I’m female and he’s male and I don’t want him looking at me there.  Stepping closer to Mrs McCall I shake my head.

 

“Stiles,” her hand touches my arm, “Are you okay?”

 

Crap.

 

“Err, yeah?” My voice is wavering a bit and I must be stressing out because the doctor steps closer to me and I’m not aware of running but I’m out of the room and bolting down the corridor past dad who calls my name.

 

Exiting the building at high speed I angle straight for the cruiser and when I reach it I lean against it breathing heavily, and that’s when I find out I’m shaking and shivering, god what’s wrong with me?  I just really didn’t want the doctor to see me, and I really didn’t want some man pawing at my chest either, I didn’t want him pressing down on it like Gerard did as he said bad things to me, about me, about dad.

 

“Stiles!” Dad is jogging over to me, “Stiles, it’s okay,” people keep saying that and it really isn’t, “What happened? I don’t understand…”

 

“I just want to go home, can we go home, please?” Oh god, please just let us go home.

 

“We should get you checked to make sure your ribs are okay…” He’s wavering.

 

“They’re fine, really, they’re great,” I know it’s useless but I try making pleading eyes, they haven’t worked in years and frankly he hates me so he’s going to march in there and make me take my top off in from of a guy, and then that guy’s going to touch me when I don’t want him to.

 

Dad straightens up and this is it, this is the point he forces me inside, “Get in the car Stiles, I’ll sort this out, okay?”

 

Wait, he said what?

 

“Thank you,” I clamber into the car at top speed and slam the door after me, I even jam the seatbelt on so I’ll be harder to drag out of the car, he sighs and walks away from me and into the hospital.

 

I try not to let the sigh and the visual of him walking away get to me, he had to walk away from me to get me out of the examination, and frankly he’s been sighing around me and Scott for years, there’s nothing to worry about, I’ve only fled from a doctor and gotten beaten up like a weakling again, what’s to worry about?

 

Oh my god, I’m even more screwed than I thought.

 

Checking my watch obsessively, the fifteen minutes he’s gone crawl past and I fidget in the car, I resist turning on the lights and sirens, they’re pretty cool but I don’t want to call attention to myself right now.

 

Mrs McCall walks out with dad and they stand there talking for another ten minutes, I have no idea what they’re talking about but dad’s upset and agitated, I’ve really made a mess of this, like I make a mess of everything, always, it’s like I’m cursed except it’s because I’m put together wrong.

 

Dad gets in the car and we drive home in silence, at home I try to slope off to my room but he insists that I sit down with him and watch a game together, as Stella I’m not that interested in football and frankly as Stiles I’m not that interested either, but it makes dad happier.

 

We cook a simple dinner together and I like puttering around the kitchen as Stella, I put a few extra things on the chicken pieces and we whack them in the oven to cook, the veg are boiled and I whip up some gravy, the old fashioned way.  I give dad a few tentative smiles and he smiles back so I get more confident.

 

Perhaps being around Danny and learning his idea of the perfect fantasy Stiles was a good idea, because by the time we dish up dad’s relaxed, and all I had to do was shut down everything that’s me, I can do that, I can pretend to not be me, both parts of me.

 

Sitting at the table we eat in silence but it’s more comfortable now, he digs in and that’s enough to make me hungry too, I need my food after all and it’s all good healthy food, it will help me stay strong and fit, it will help me look normal.

 

I volunteer to wash up and dad picks up the cloth to dry without being asked, we work in harmony and I’m so damn hopeful, maybe, just maybe, we can work out some of the issues I’ve created and things won’t be so bad between us.

 

Emptying the sink I start putting things away and as the last plate slides in place I pat it and turn to dad, “Um, I still have some homework to do,” but part of me is hoping he brought something home too, something small, we could both sit at the table and work on our own things, together.

 

“Okay,” he’s smiling and then the phone rings, he looks at the caller ID and reaches for the phone, “Melissa,” oh it’s Mrs McCall.

 

Leaving him to his call I almost dance up the stairs, god I can’t believe things are going so well right now, this is amazing.  Gathering up the smallest, simplest piece of homework I can find, I head for the stairs and get ready to spend some quiet time with dad, and I’m thankful for Danny and the accidental discovery that quiet Stiles is more socially acceptable.

 

Pausing at the top of the stairs I shamelessly eavesdrop on him, “No, he’s upstairs doing ‘homework’ again, I’ve popped my head around the door before so I know that’s exactly what he’s doing,” he stops and then says, “It’s just, earlier, the way he was acting, how he did things was so different, and it really reminded me of his mom,” my heart thumps at the reminder of her, god I miss her so much, “No, not the little things, he does that all the time, he has her smile and her laugh,” wow really?  I stay where I am and listen harder, huh, who said eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves?  Well they clearly never got told they were like their mom and that they had her smile and her laugh, I loved her smile and her laugh.

 

“No Melissa, you don’t get it, he wasn’t acting like STILES, he was acting like a…  God, I don’t know how to say this, it sounds strange but then he’s been strange for a while,” my stomach starts to knot up, he noticed me as Stella, he noticed there was something different about me, strange.  “It was almost as if he were a girl, the way he moved, the way he spoke,” there’s a break in the conversation, “I don’t know, I really don’t, it’s not like he talks to me anymore, he’s shut himself off from Scott, I just don’t know what to do with him…”

 

Carefully I creep back along the hall and I put my homework back on my table, turning things off in my brain I do the homework and then I do more homework.

 

Footsteps on the stairs let me know he’s coming and I look up to see him there, he’s going to watch TV and I nod and keep working.  I work solidly up to the point that he goes to bed, then I go to bed too.  Only then do I let myself curl up into a ball, and stuffing the covers in my mouth I let myself cry, because dad came damn close to finding out about me, and he called me strange, he thinks I’m the one who ditched Scott and maybe he’s right because I’ve joined Derek’s pack now.

 

An hour later I sneak to the bathroom, I wash my face and I climb into bed properly, I don’t bother to undress and I certainly don’t wear the PJs they’ll have to be another of my secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m fairly certain the booklet doesn’t really exist, I wish it did, it might just help someone.
> 
> Oh and thank you for all of the messages and comments, sorry I’ve not replied my inbox has been playing up, it’s fixed now though.


	10. Chapter 10

For the rest of the week I’m extra careful.  I go to the library at lunch, I do my best to focus in class, no one talks to me but that’s expected and it means I can’t upset anyone, all my homework is done and in as soon as possible, at home I stick to my room as much as I can and I force Stiles front and centre as I lock up Stella.

 

At practice I’m not allowed to join in and I’ll be sitting the game out this Saturday, Coach is furious and I redouble my efforts to be part of the team by volunteering to fetch and carry, I do some of his paperwork for him, and I’m not kicked off the team.  The team members that were caught by dad last weekend are given a long talk about random drugs tests and scholarships drying up if they test positive, how these are the moments for them to earn their tickets out of this town and to the colleges they want to get into.

 

And I make sure not to be alone with those boys just in case they decide to pull a Trent on me.

 

Surprisingly Danny is being un-nice to some of the guys and has said that it’s their faults and they have no one to blame but themselves, they grumble and take it and look more upset at that than Coach’s speech.

 

I’ve taken some time out, which I’d normally use to exercise, and I’ve done research on our opponents for Saturday, making some notes I bring them to Coach and this practice is tailored to help the guys win tomorrow, if we can adapt ourselves we can take advantage of their weaknesses and build a defence to withstand their strengths.

 

It’s weird that Coach and I confer and then the guys are running around the field and practicing what I’m telling them to do, most of them are even being respectful to me, I’m so not used to that.  I’m also the only person Danny’s being friendly to, he’s not happy with the others and it shows, only I don’t know why.

 

Going home afterwards I eat with dad and then escape to my room, it’s harder and harder to keep Stella down each day, it’s like the pressure inside of me is getting the point where I go ‘bang’ and an exploding Stiles is not a good thing at all.

 

I’m in the middle of my biology homework when the front door bell rings, it must be someone for dad, no one is going to come over for me, not since Scott left me for Allison, so I ignore it and go back to work.

 

The soft knock on my door makes me look up to see dad standing there looking confused, “You have three visitors, they want to know if you want to go see a movie.”

 

I have three visitors?

 

Do I know three people that would turn up at my house and want to spend time with me?

 

No, no I don’t know those people, but sheer curiosity has me going downstairs to find Isaac, Erika and Boyd standing in the hallway.  “Hey Brucie,” Erika purrs at me, “Wanna go sit in the dark and watch some moving pictures?  I hear they have sound and colour these days...” If anything she’s over doing the predatory thing though I notice she’s wearing a t-shirt with the head of a feline on it, so I’m assuming she’s being more Catwoman today than normal.

 

“Really Selena,” I play along because I can and watching Isaac look confused is amusing, “That’s your best offer?  What happened to running over rooftops and fighting crime dynamically?”

 

“It’s supposed to rain later and I just did my hair,” she deadpans back and my mouth twitches nearly curling up into a smile.

 

“And we can’t have the rain ruining your hair,” I agree with her and wish I could have hair that flows like that, I bet it feels amazing, there are so many accessorizes I could use on it too.

 

“No we can’t,” she stalks forward, “So you up for a movie?  There’s nothing new on, but we thought you might want to come out and play, after all too much work makes Jack a dull boy,” she pouts and if I didn’t know her better I’d be taken in by her flirty ways, instead she just scares me, I still remember being hit in the head with one of my own car parts.

 

“Um, I have homework to do,” and I do want to get out of the house and technically we’re all Pack so I should be safe with them, but last time I went out it caused trouble for everyone and I’m not going to do that again.

 

“You can take a break for an evening Stiles,” Dad’s leaning against a wall watching me, “Just make sure you’re back by eleven, you have a game tomorrow and don’t get into trouble,” he pulls out his wallet and offers me some money, “Have fun and call me if you need anything, anything at all okay?”

 

“Yes sir,” I fall back on politeness and stare at the money he’s just given to me, he’s never done that before, ever, and I don’t understand why he’s encouraging me to go out, but I play along, “I need to save my work and grab a jacket.”  Fleeing up the stairs I hurriedly shut down the laptop and snag my hoodie and a jacket.  Bounding down the stairs I wince as I pull at my bruises and then I drag my sneakers on and follow the three werewolves out the door.

 

Boyd’s driving a car I’ve never seen before and I clamber into the back with Isaac, of course Erika is up front, not that I’m fighting her for the privilege she’d neuter me in seconds.  Pulling away from the curb Boyd heads towards town and I ask, “So where are we really going?”  Perhaps Derek had them pick me up so I could help with some kind of research for them, I’m good with Google and I’m proud of putting together so much about werewolves and then the Argents so we could pin Peter’s murders on Kate because she’s a psycho killer who burns down peoples’ homes for giggles and stuff.

 

“To the movies,” Isaac eyes me up like I’m weird, “Derek said we had to do things together because we’re a Pack, now that the latest monster is dead we’ve got time to chill out.”

 

So we really are going to the movies, and the thing that Peter came to me to get the Bestiary for is dead, that’s one less thing to worry about, dad won’t be accidently running into that thing ever.  “Okay,” I sit back and try to hang onto fantasy Stiles of the few words and non-flailing, it won’t last long but maybe I can duck into the toilets when I need to flail, though hiding the talking will be difficult as I’ll be surrounded by werewolves with super wolfy hearing.

 

I get taken to the old movie theatre that does reruns of classics and today it’s running WALL-E and The Reader and that last one is kinda depressing, plus it’s a hoot to see Derek Hale sitting in the old movie theatre, with a giant popcorn bucket preparing to see a kids animation about a little robot who’s all alone and then… Huh, maybe this could be good for him, get him in touch with his inner WALL-E or something.

 

For some reason the three Beta wolves sit in front and I sit between Derek and Peter, who’s creeping and being himself, which is wrong when we’re watching this movie.  The giant bucket of popcorn is plopped in my lap and then the movie is on and I sit there and watch a little lonely robot find that tiny fragile plant, and fall in love with EVE.

 

By the end I’m sniffing to myself and Peter hands me a tissue to wipe my eyes with and then blow my nose, both sides of me love this movie, and Stella would be all gushy by now, but I’m Stiles so I can man up and pretend I just have something in my eye, like a tree branch.

 

No one says anything and I get taken home by the three Betas and I let myself into the house, where dad is diligently working on some case files, I don’t try and crane my neck to see what they are, “That was quick,” he says and glances at the clock.

 

“Yeah, we went to the old movie theatre and saw WALL-E,” I stand there and scuff my foot trying not to be a problem for him. I’m not sure if taking me to the movies makes me a genuine Pack member or the convenient human tag along, and Peter said they need me for human touch, but no one hugged me. I’m just confused about the whole evening.

 

“Oh, well it’s nice that you’re going out with friends,” he hesitates, “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here all the time Stiles.”

 

But when I went to the party and then bowling he was upset, or has he decided I’m allowed out, or... My head is going to start hurting if I keep thinking about this.

 

“Okay,” I answer him and then point to the stairs, “I’m going to go read and then go to sleep, I still have a game tomorrow.”

 

“Okay son, sleep well, and I might be able to get some time off to come see the game,” he says.

 

“Oh, I’m not playing,” I point out and then mentally kick myself, he’s not really coming to see me, he’s probably coming to see Scott who’ll get to play as I’ll be benched.

 

“I still want to be there,” and I stare down at my feet and nod as I wrap my arms around my middle, it’s hard to know he’ll be there and he won’t be cheering me on, though maybe that’s a good thing, I’d only fall over my feet and make a fool of myself which would make dad look foolish too.

 

“Night,” I don’t wait for his answer and I flee up the stairs to my room.

 

I really do have some reading and I settle on my bed trying not to jostle my bruises as I catch up with my English reading assignment, it’s the normal boring ones with little happening except so called character growth and development, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to pad out an essay on this piece of shit, nothing exciting occurs throughout the whole book, how the hell did the author get paid for this?

 

Dad comes up to bed and I wait for him to shut his door, then I wait another thirty minutes.  Only then do I get ready for bed and I slip my new PJ top on, I need something to help centre me and I should be able to get away with this paired with some sweatpants, that’s masculine enough, though I’m aware of the dual feminine nature of the top and its perfect to help me fall asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Surprisingly we win the game.

 

And by surprising I mean we nearly lost.

 

Scott and Jackson were both playing and being assholes again, in the end I got Coach to separate them, only one of them was on the field at any one time, that way they weren’t working against each other and the team only had to pass to them to score.

 

Except the team didn’t want to pass to them so they could score, the team has gotten used to working together and not having a star player they have to please all the time, so the team acted out.

 

Coach has nearly lost his voice from screaming, the crowd are restless, and the team aren’t talking to Scott or Jackson.

 

But we still won.

 

We get to go and shower and I’m expecting the same kind of atmosphere as last time, jubilant and ready to party, not that I’m going to a party I’m going home, I’ve learnt from the last party.  I’m doing homework tonight.  Instead the atmosphere is tense and unhappy, really unhappy, everyone realises just how close to losing they came and they don’t like it.

 

It isn’t until I’m packing up and getting ready to leave for my exciting evening snuggled up with the shitty English book that is supposed to be a classic, but is turning out so fucking dull I’m going to end up searching for study notes on the internet just to get out of reading it, that it all kicks off.

 

One moment I’m lacing up my sneakers and the next Danny is right up in my space and saying, “So Stiles, you’re still okay for the lift right?” And I’m baffled as to what lift I’m giving him because I’m going home.

 

“Yeah,” and then Greenburg is there too, “I’m behind on my economics.”

 

Before I understand what the hell is going on I’m grabbed by Danny and dragged out of the locker room and out into the parking lot.  I’m too stunned to struggle and it’s not until I’m by my jeep that I realise the rest of the lacrosse team is behind me and they’re all talking about coming to my house, loudly.

 

Oh my god.

 

Dad is going to kill me.  He was so upset I went bowling with the team what the hell is he going to do when he finds them all in our house?

 

“Stiles?”  It’s dad, of course its dad, he’s appeared behind us.  I’m going to get into trouble and it’s not even my fault.

 

“Hey sir,” Automatically I wrap my arms around me and brace for the disappointed look and lecture.

 

“Sheriff,” Danny steps forward, “We’re just turning up to do homework at your house, we won’t stay long and we won’t damage anything.”  There are murmurs from around him, positive ones, as if this is something that popular jocks do after winning a game.

 

“Okay,” dad is just as confused as I am, “I won’t be that long, we have soda in the cupboard and snacks hidden in the pantry… So I’ll see you soon?”

 

“Yes sir,” and Danny grabs my arm to propel me the last few feet towards my jeep, under his breathe he hisses, “Drive, carefully, but drive.”

 

As I appear to be in some alternate universe I do as I’m told.  We all end up at my house and a bunch of jocks are soon sprawled out over the living room with various sodas and snacks as they pull out homework.

 

And then they actually do homework.

 

I do notice that there is no Scott or Jackson.  But there is Isaac and Boyd, who are also doing homework.  Both of whom can hear me whisper from the other side of the room, “What the hell is going on?”

 

The only reaction I get is a glance from Isaac, who stands up and asks, “Stiles, is there anymore of this?” He waggles his glass at me.

 

“Sure,” I smoothly get to my feet, by flailing a lot, and then I pick my way out of the living room to meet him in the kitchen.  I point to the soda bottles lined up on the kitchen counter and he starts to refill his glass.

 

Jerking his head to indicate I should get closer he waits for me to sidle up to him, “It’s Danny’s idea.  He’s really pissed at Jackson and most of the team, he’s making them do this, he’s also making a point of telling the teachers that the team has learnt its collective lesson and is ready to show how willing it is to not get in trouble,” I guess the being busted thing struck a nerve for a lot of people.

 

“Oh,” I guess that makes sense.

 

“Plus this way we can show you some support too,” Isaac gently elbows me, “And as we’re Pack now we’ll keep an eye out for you. Derek wants to know if you’re free this Sunday for a run, he’ll tone it down for you, but he says it will push you more than Coach does,” and then Isaac scrunches up his face as if wanting to push yourself is a bad thing.

 

“Maybe. I’ll have to see what Dad says,” I hedge, and running with werewolves, when I’m not running for my life, is a very stamina building exercise.

 

“Okay,” and Isaac disappears out of the kitchen.

 

I re-join the guys and bury myself in my homework.  Dad comes home and he’s brought more snacks with him, the snacks are greeted with enthusiasm and dad sits at the kitchen table with some reports, so the noise level never gets very high.

 

Bemused I give up reading the dumb book and snag some math instead all the while shaking my head at how I’ve ended up with most of the team at my house studying.


	12. Chapter 12

Groaning I lean against my jeep and try not to vomit.  Every muscle is like jelly and damn it we ran for freaking miles, but the endorphin rush is amazing.  Dad let me come for a run with Isaac and Boyd, he’s not expecting me back until tonight.

 

The wolves all wander up and look annoyingly perfect.  Derek has barely broken a sweat and the three teens are restless, I’d feel bad about them holding back for me but I kept up with them the whole way and only stumbled twice.

 

Peter saunters up to me and not one hair is out of place on his head, his jogging gear is as clean as when he first started, it’s like he’s just stepped out of his house, or a modelling shoot.  Except I know he loped along for the run acting like it was the warm up to the main event.  “Ready?”  He asks and I swallow, or try to as my throat is dry.

 

Derek did tell his Betas about me, he wanted me to be able to be male or female in the apartment, and he asked me before he did it. I’m not sure what made me say yes, but Peter was there too and he seemed to think it was a good idea.

 

Derek apparently did some research first.

 

He even did a power point presentation, I didn’t know he could even turn on a computer, and has explained that I’m Trans to the other wolves and that means if any of them pick on me or make fun of me, he’ll rip their throats out, but with his claws, not his teeth.  I’m not sure if that makes me special because he threatens to use his teeth on me.

 

Not one of the Betas has said anything nasty to me and they’re making a point of calling me ‘Stiles’ and trying not to use gender words around me.  I was really freaked out to start with but now I’m too tired.  Derek’s taking the Betas for a longer, faster run, while Peter is taking me to the apartment, for a surprise.

 

I’m too exhausted to point out that the surprise is probably being dissected alive by the resident psychopath. I dig my keys out of my pocket and grunt as Peter steals them from me, he points to the passenger side of my jeep and I wordlessly stagger around there and then climb in.

 

Peter’s made sure I warmed up properly and then down again, but man, my legs and my everything…

 

*

 

… “Stiles,” a voice is calling to me and I wiggle away because I’m so damn tired…

 

*

 

… I wake up with a jerk and realise I’m not in my room.  My eyes dart about to see I’m in a bedroom, one decorated tastefully, in burgundy.  And there’s someone in my arms, someone I’m spooning.

 

A someone I’ve woken up with before, because I’m cuddling Peter freaking Hale again.  We were going back to the Pack apartment, so I must be there in Peter’s bedroom.  He’s still wearing his workout gear. For a few seconds I panic and realise I’m still in my muddy, sweaty, workout gear, in fact I kind of smell of sweat.

 

“Stiles,” Peter rumbles softly, “Your heart is beating so quickly,” he sounds sleepy, “Did you have a nightmare?”

 

“Noooo,” I draw the word out, “Just wasn’t expecting to wake up here, like this…”

 

“But we talked about the human touch thing,” he doesn’t let me finish, and to my shock he twists around in my arms so we’re face to face.  Even my nightmares have never done this to me and I have no idea what to do next, to the point that my brain is shutting down wondering whether to fight or take flight. “And you fell asleep in the car on the way back, what was I supposed to do?” He’s face has that exaggerated ‘I’m not the bad guy’ innocent look that never worked on me the first time.  “Did you want to use the shower? I brought your bag with your things in it up too…”

 

I’m holding a guy in my arms and discussing showers.

 

A scary guy.

 

“Or…” he smiles at me and I know he’s up to something, “You could see the surprise I made you…”

 

“Surprise?”  I have literally no idea what Peter would consider to be a surprise for me, other than killing me or something, though he’s been behaving himself since he rose from the dead, well as much as Peter is capable of behaving.

 

The feral hungry smile on his face does nothing to help calm me down and Peter slips out of my arms and pads over to a wardrobe, “Yes, I made you a surprise…” He reaches in and pulls something out, or somethings, it looks like clothes and then he spins, dramatically, “See I altered some leggings for Stella, and I found a delightful little blouse you could wear over a lovely top, you’ll notice the stitching on the top is a stylised wolf’s head in gold thread on black.”  He brings them over to me and wafts them at me, I don’t even fight it as Stella rises up, I’m too surprised to do anything but reach out to the clothes.

 

“Peter,” I nearly don’t want to touch the clothes because I’ve not washed yet, the leggings are that black stretchy material, the top matches it from what I can see, and both of them have golden threads glittering in the light.  The blouse is a thin, see through material in a pale yellow, I think there is more golden thread on it too.

 

“Go and shower Miss Stilinski, and then we can play dress up until the others get here,” and this is probably the most excited I’ve ever seen him, “Oh, wait I have something else for you,” the clothes are placed on the bed and Peter almost prances over to his dresser.  “I had to guess at the sizes but I think I’m right. Well of course I’m right, or close to it.”

 

And then I discover that Peter’s bought me women’s underwear, in yellow.  It’s a pretty matching set and as Stella I really want to own them, but both sides of me are one hundred percent in agreement that a grown werewolf shouldn’t be buying me underwear.

 

“And I got these to go in the bra for you,” he’s even gotten false inserts and he puts one of them in my hand.  I’ve done my best to never look at this stuff at home, there is no way I want my dad to be able to trace any of my web searches and find out I’m different.  But I may have stolen Greenburg’s log on and checked at school, and these are the silicone gel filled ones, similar to the ones used in breast operations, they’re supposed to have the feel and weight of a real breast.

 

And I want them so badly.

 

“I…” Oh holy mother of god do I want those.

 

They’re only small, only a slight handful but they’d be mine and my chest as Stella wouldn’t be flat, I’d have minor cleavage, some kind of feminine shape, I wouldn’t have to keep pretending I’m just a late bloomer because my male body won’t grow breasts.  I’ve had the mental conversation with myself so many times, as Stiles I don’t need them at all, as Stella I don’t need them but I want them, as an outward sign of femininity, which is dumb because I’m sometimes female and the body shouldn’t matter.

 

“And…”  Peter’s predatory grin gets bigger, “I found this too,” he hurries over to a door and vanishes through to reappear carrying a blank dummy’s head and on the head is a wig, a wig in the same colour as my hair, and the wig’s hair is long, really long.  “I also made a matching hair band to go with the blouse, and there were some fetching accessories I can’t wait to weave into your hair.”

 

He’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted as a girl.

 

And all I have to do is accept gifts from Peter.

 

“I…” I really want this, all of this.

 

“Stella,” Peter’s crept closer to me, “Think of all the things I can make for you, all the hours of dressing up we can do, the shopping, the fabrics, the designs I can dream up.  You’ve not been infected by Derek’s ridiculous addiction to leather, yes it has its place but not all the time, I can dress you the way you should be dressed, and if you like how you look, well I can work on some things for Stiles too.”  He’s kneeling on the floor by the bed and acting a bit like a kid at Christmas.

 

“I…” I want the things he’s bought so badly, but I don’t want to owe Peter Hale anything, he’s proved himself to not be a very stable cookie.

 

“Say yes,” he leans on the bed, “Erika won’t wear the dresses I keep drawing, Isaac lives in his leather jacket, Boyd argues with me over colours and then turns his nose up, and Derek threatened to throw my future sewing machine in the river if I ‘annoyed’ him with my demands.  Say yes Stella, let yourself enjoy being feminine in clothes that will be tailor made for you, say yes and I can finally have one well-dressed person in the whole of Beacon Hills, I’m not counting myself because, really?  I expect nothing but perfection from me, but you…” And he makes a dramatic hand motion to me, “Plaid?  All the time?  Please let me dress you as Stella, please.”

 

I suppose that means I’d be doing him a favour…

 

“We could try it?” I suggest and I know Scott would be throwing a fit right now about giving in and playing nice with the enemy, but maybe I could learn how to dress the way I want to, how to pick the right clothes, how to wear them, how to do my hair, even if it is just a wig.  “But there are some things I will not wear, I have my own tastes Peter, and I refuse to wear anything tight, or cut the wrong way.”

 

“Oh Stella, my dear sweet young lady,” he breathes it out, “You are not going to regret this, this is a match made in heaven.”

 

Which is how I find myself in Peter’s bathroom, in his shower, using the products he bought for me after a twenty minute tutorial on how to dress myself in the new clothes.

 

I sniff one of the bottles and the scent is faint, but, it has this thing, this something that calls to Stella and I luxuriate in the feel of the shower gel on my skin, it foams and the scent gets stronger filling the air around me, I breathe it in, god I’ve never been able to be Stella like this before.  Any time I spent as her was furtive and guarded, I always had to keep an ear out for dad, and find ways to hide evidence of her from everyone.  This is ridiculously freeing.

 

It’s also ridiculously addicting.

 

Rinsing I turn off the shower and pat my skin dry.  Peter’s even got special lotion for me to use, it has natural ingredients so as not to upset the wolfy noses of my new Pack, but it sinks into my skin like a dream and I sigh at how good that is.

 

Towelling my hair some more I wait for the lotion to finish working its way in and I trail a finger up my side to silky soft skin.  Ready to get dressed I steel myself to wear tighter clothes than I’m used to as either Stiles or Stella.  If I don’t like how they look I’m not wearing them, I prefer looser clothes and Peter is just going to have to accept that.

 

Reverently I caress the panties and I take my time slipping them on, the material almost whispering up my thighs, I’ve practiced the tucking thing and I’m mostly there as I settle the yellow panties in place.  They aren’t tiny little silly bits of string, they’re proper panties and cover everything while still being feminine and pretty to wear, they even have little bows stitched on the sides.  I study how they sit in the full length mirror Peter has in his bathroom, I’m so unsurprised by his vanity.  The panties are full and cover everything including my ass, they’re perfect.

 

Breathing out I have to steady myself for a few seconds, I’ve never worn a bra in my life, and I know that I don’t need to have breasts to be female, but I really want them, I envy other girls and women their breasts, they don’t know how lucky they are to have them.

 

Ignoring the slight shake in my hands I follow Peter’s steps to putting bras on, he’s warned me I probably won’t be able to do it up behind my back, yet, that’s more of an advanced course of bra fitting.  Instead I do it up in front and twizzle it around, I have to adjust the straps a few times and I stare down at the empty cups on my chest. 

 

Time to try out the inserts.

 

I nearly drop the first one because my hands are trembling that badly, but then the insert is slipped in and it fits.

 

It fits.

 

And I’m aware of this slight unfamiliar weight in front of me and I hurry to put the second insert in.

 

Oh my god.

 

I have breasts.

 

Kind of.

 

But I have them and I can’t help but palm the bra softly.  They’re really there. My knees wobble and I have to lean against the cold tiled wall to steady myself, but I end up sliding down it and my new boobs bump my knees, I even feel it slightly through the bra and a very strange laugh is ripped from me.

 

Its not a panic attack, I know what that’s like, this is different, bubbily, light headedness, an urge to run around screaming “YES” and I almost can’t believe how good this is, but I’ve had a completely male body for so long that it’s shocking how something so small can help me switch so completely to female, I love it, I really honestly love it.

 

Struggling to my feet I grab the leggings and hope to god that Peter knows what he’s doing with clothes.  Pulling them on, I smooth them down my legs and check to see if my bulge shows, it does, and I frown not liking it.  Though now I can see the stitching down the side of the leggings, and there are geometric patterns in gold thread scrolling up the side of the leggings and I notice that I have really nice legs, and a tight little butt.

 

Huh.

 

As long as I can hide the obvious maleness of this body when I’m Stella, and wearing these leggings, they’re not as bad as I thought they would be.  The black works some kind of magic and I bask in the way they alter how I look in some mysterious way.

 

The top goes on next and it’s not as tight as I thought it would be, it clings but doesn’t cling, the gold in the top complimenting the gold in the leggings and the chest area curves over my breasts giving me a contour I’ve never had before.  The top even disguises the slight bulge in my crotch more and I snatch at the yellow blouse.

 

Oh my god.

 

I stare at the finished product in the mirror and this is a thousand times better than my first dress, though I loved it so much and I always will, I can see me as a girl in the mirror, I can see how the clothes change things and I’m a girl, I’m really a girl.

 

My eyes sting making me blink rapidly to clear them.

 

I fumble the buttons at the base of the blouse, the final layer to hide the last remnant of my manliness, and all that’s left is Stella, and I’m totally a girl.

 

For a few moments I waver and fidget, I’m not used to people really seeing me and I’m tempted to hide in here.  Only Peter did buy me these clothes and he seemed really excited about dressing me up.  And he did accept me as Stella.

 

I’m aiming for brazening it out but I’m too anxious, and as I step out from the shelter of his shower I stand there as he eyes me up and down, it isn’t until he smiles that I relax, “Perfect, I knew it would be just perfect on you,” he stalks towards me and I hold my ground, “Oh my dear Miss Stilinski,” he twirls his finger and I blink not understanding at first.  Hesitantly I turn on the spot slowly and he’s still nodding.  “Yes, this is so very you, we’ll go modern classic, I’ve seen some lovely new designs on the internet.  And one last thing to do, and that’s your hair.”

 

Oh my god, I get to have long hair.

 

Okay so it’s a wig, I don’t care, it’s mine.

 

“I’ve taken the liberty of styling it already for you,” Peter motions towards the wig and he has added a few things, I move closer to inspect it.  “As you can see I’ve left most of it down, I’ve used a pair of plaits from the side to join at the back to keep the worst of it under control, and I’ve woven in a few hair jewels, note the gold and yellow ropes in the plaits,” and it looks pretty.  “Do you like it?” He asks me.

 

“Yes,” I can’t be anything but truthful, he’ll hear my heart skip over the words, “The clothes and the hair are beautiful Peter.”

 

“Well…” He almost shrugs it off, “I did enjoy myself.  So let’s try this on and I’ll show you how to put on wigs.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, and with a very through demonstration and tutorial on wig wearing, Peter tugs one last time and steps back, “Yes, that is the finishing touch to my masterpiece.”  And trust him to focus on that part, I get up from the seat he’d brought in and I let him lead me to the full length mirror

 

Staring back at me is a girl, her long dark hair falls down over her shoulders, but it stays contained in the ropes of hair and sparkling glass gems holding it back.  Her body is neither slender nor fat, she’s tall and lean with hints of power and working out.  The clothes are flattering and bring out the light brown of her eyes and she’s me.  This amazing creature in the mirror is me.

 

“I’m pretty,” I breathe it out, I thought I was okay for a guy, I’m not Danny or Jackson but I’m not a frog either.  I thought I’d be ugly for a girl, all the things that work for me as a guy wouldn’t work for me as a female, but somehow it all works just fine.

 

“Very,” Peter says and I watch him touch up his clothes beside me, “I admit the clothes help a little, but there’s only so much you can do with them, now what I could do with Stiles…  As a boy you clean up very nicely, give me free reign on your wardrobe as a boy and I’ll get rid of the plaid,” he shudders, “Again its nice in moderation but you seem to have a fetish for it.”

 

Glancing at his watch he shoos his hands at me, “Now let me go and clean up, the others will be here in an hour, I should just be about ready by then, feel free to roam around, the TV is hooked up, as is the internet, there are books and DVDs and I made lunch earlier it’s sitting in the fridge.”

 

Escorted to his bedroom door I’m let loose into their temporary apartment, they’re staying here while they wait to complete everything on the new house near the edge of town.

 

Behind me the door shuts with a soft snick and I turn to explore this place, Stella is just as curious as Stiles, but slightly less destructive, only slightly though.


	13. Chapter 13

Glancing around I can see the apartment isn’t that small, in fact there’s a living room and separate dining area, both are by the big windows and must give fantastic views, I sidle over there, I have an hour to kill and there’s only so much noisiness I can fit in.

 

Skipping over to the table I can see its set with some very fetching gold and yellow flower sets, I’m sensing a theme from Peter, though I was right and the view from the window is out over the side landscaped area that’s shared by the whole apartment block.

 

In the lounge are some nice cream couches and a large screen TV with a few consoles rigged up to it, those must be for Isaac and I can see a few games spread over the floor to one side.  I’ll peek at them later because I’ve spotted the DVD collection and I browse that, my inner geek goes crazy over some of the titles and I can almost imagine the movie marathons coming up, as a girl or boy I could nerd over these for hours.

 

Moving on I find the books are more boring and are less fiction and more scientific based, Hawkins a short history of everything’s spine is broken and battered, that must have been read over and over again.

 

Other than five doors leading off the main area I can’t see anything other than the kitchen, which is a modern marvel and even has a little kitchen island, which I’ve always wanted.  I peek in the fridge to see the cold meat selection big enough to feed an army, and there’s some salad and on the side counter are packets of rice ready to be cooked.

 

I also may stumble across the ice-cream and that’s a lot of ice-cream, thankfully they are all werewolves so they’ll burn it off quickly.

 

And that leaves me with the doors.

 

One of them leads to Peter’s room, so I know where that goes.

 

The second one, near the kitchen, is a cupboard, half of it is used for coats and shoes, the other half for cleaning stuff.  Boring, but at least I know when my shoes are now.

 

The third door opens into a plain bedroom, there’s a bed, well made and not a wrinkle in it, a wardrobe and that’s it.  Another door is on the other side of the room, I’m guessing that’s the ensuite bathroom like Peter’s.

 

Behind the forth door is another bedroom, this one is more messy and there are a few textbooks on a desk, I’m so to say this one is Isaacs’s, so the last one was Derek’s.  I don’t explore, just yet, I don’t want to get kicked out of the Pack for intruding, I’ll save it for later and when I’m more accepted, if I’m ever more accepted.

 

The very last door is to a small toilet, this must be the one that visitors use, and now I know where I can pee when I need to.  And luckily these clothes are nice and easy to pull down so I can pee, that was the only thing wrong with my dress, getting it up out of the way so I could sit down on the toilet.  How do women cope with those kinds of clothes all the time?  Some of them are clearly designed to torture the poor person wearing them, and I suspect the reason girls and women go to the toilet together isn’t just for safety, it’s for an extra pair of hands to help with clothes.

 

With nothing else left to do I sit on the sofa and curl up on one of the big soft cushions there, I channel hop before settling on some cartoons as I wait for Peter to finish doing whatever it is he does to make himself pretty, then I giggle because that sounded funny.

 

Freezing in place I glance around the empty apartment and remind myself that I’m safe here, probably.  Oh god please don’t let Derek freak out because I’m dressed as a girl.  Oh my god please don’t let the Betas freak out because I’m dressed as a girl.

 

Crap.

 

Maybe I should change back into my normal clothes, I can still be Stella and wear clothes Stiles normally wears, just like I can be Stiles wearing things for Stella.

 

Jumping to my feet I flail a bit and then hurry over to Peter’s door, then I hesitate, because I don’t know if he’s wallowing in the shower or messing around in his bedroom, and I did not need that thought in my head.

 

I’m just about to knock on his door when it opens and Peter’s standing there, thankfully dressed, and being his normal arrogant self as he straightens the cufflinks on his shirt sleeve, “Stella?  Your heart is racing, is everything okay?”

 

“Um… I think I should change back…” Because it’s one thing to be a girl around Peter, who I should be afraid of, but curiously I’m not when it comes to this, and it’s quite another to be one around Derek and his teenangst Betas.

 

“I’ve been researching your particular type of gender,” Is all Peter says to me, “Do you want to see what I’ve found?” And yes I want to know more about me, I’ve not dared to research just in case, and what little I’ve heard about Transgender doesn’t fit me.

 

Brushing past me he ambles over to the dining room table and puts his laptop down, god I’ve wanted to get my hands on that thing for months, he’s supposed to have downloaded the entire Hale library onto it and my fingers itch to touch it.

 

Pulling out a chair he waves me towards it and then I’m treated to him carefully pushing my chair in, he’s really acting as if I’m a girl and I flush for some reason, sitting next to me he taps on the keys to pull up a document labelled, ‘Bi-Gender’, “I’ve only lightly touched on the subject on gender,” he’s leaning forward and doing something to the settings, “And frankly I had no idea that human gender could be so complex, let alone be so very different and separate from an individual’s sexual identity,” he slides the laptop in front of me and I ignore his mention of the word sex.

 

There isn’t much on the page and he’s cited a few references from well-known online places like Wikipedia, but it mostly describes me, the fluid move from male to female, of being slightly different when I’m male or female, and I can’t be the only one out there, Peter’s found a few blogs and forums where people like me can talk to one another.

 

“I’m normal,” is all I can think of as my mind is totally blown by this, I’m normal, I’m not wrong, I’m just Bigender, I’m a subset of being Transgender, more specifically I’m Gender Fluid or Gender Queer, and I’m a recognised subset, I’m real, I’m documented, I’m not some weird thing put together incorrectly.

 

Oh my god, for this alone I’d join Derek’s Pack, to see in black and white that I’m exactly what I’m supposed to be.

 

“Of course you’re normal Stella, both you and Stiles are perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you at all,” Peter’s leaning back against the chair rest and I should be freaking out that Peter Hale thinks I’m normal because he is so not the poster child of normal, but he’s right, there’s nothing wrong with me.

 

His head jerks up and he stares over at the main door, when he tilts his head slightly I can’t help thinking of a dog but as Stella I’m quieter and keep my amusement to myself, “They’re here,” is all it takes him to say to have me stiffening and back to being worried and anxious.  I really should have changed, how the hell are they supposed to accept me?  It doesn’t matter that I’m a subsection of something, it only matters that society will mock me and punish my dad for spawning me.

 

“Relax,” he pats my shoulder and goes back to the laptop, he types, ‘give them time to adjust to you, they already know about  you, it’ll be fine’, which is easy for him to say, or type, it’s not so easy for me though.

 

I know my heartbeat has started to race as the door handle turns and I turn my focus back to the laptop, I really don’t want to see what they think of me as a girl.

 

“Good run Derek?” Peter asks, he’s draped himself over the chair and that cannot be comfortable, stupid werewolves.

 

“Yes,” and that’s the monosyllable Alpha we all know and… well grudgingly accept I guess.  “We’ll shower and then eat.”

 

“Fine, I’ll set the rice to cook then,” Peter says easily and I keep my eyes as glued on the screen in front of me as I can.  There are four werewolves and three showers, I refused to contemplate who’s sharing and then Peter’s shifting in his seat, “Boyd, I assume you’ll be borrowing Isaac’s shower when he’s finished?  Excellent, you might want to wear the t-shirt I picked out for you, really it does wonders for your… Fine I can see from your face you’re going to ignore me.”

 

And Boyd does have a way of freezing people out if he wants to.  And ignoring Peter is a very difficult thing to do.

 

Instead I get the joys of Peter’s now snarky company, “Well Stella, I know you appreciate my fashion tastes and tips, at least someone in this town has the good taste to listen to me,” and I can’t see me listening to him for advice on anything else but fashion.

 

Peter loads up a website devoted to LGBT and while I can see lots of forums and links to things for lesbians and gays I notice that the numbers drop dramatically if you’re bi and then become almost non-existent if you come under the trans umbrella, which is where anyone that doesn’t fit the LGB part gets stuffed under, though I can see why they would do that, it would be one hell of an anachronism otherwise, and people have trouble understanding the LGBT bits anyway.

 

At least that’s what I tell myself, as much as I enjoy researching and finding stuff out, because really the side trips you can make are fascinating, right now I really want to find out more about me, the description was me, and I want more.

 

Only Peter has control of the laptop and he’s exploring a few links then he sighs, “Well this is going to take longer than expected, you’d think they’d make this easier to find, from the personal stories I made myself sit through most trans of any type don’t find life easy so they should make this part less hard,” he sounds annoyed.

 

In the background the TV shuts off, I’d left it on when I’d tried to flee and get changed, but now Boyd is standing there with the remote in his hand.  He hasn’t said anything to, or about, me, and I can take this level of interaction, it’s not like he and the others have had much to do with me.  Maybe I can survive this.

 

Isaac’s door creaks open and Boyd goes for a shower as Isaac emerges fresh as a daisy and not looking like he’s been made to run for hours and miles, damn werewolves.

 

“Ah, I’ll take that as a sign that the others will be ready soon, honestly Derek takes forever to do his hair and Erika’s as bad as him,” Peter is so judging them and I refrain from mentioning that he’s as bad as them, if not worse.  “Stella if you would be so kind as to help me in the kitchen, we’ll put the things on the table and we can all help ourselves.”

 

Dutifully I follow him to the kitchen after he puts his laptop safely to one side, it’s an easy job to boil a saucepan and drop the large bag of rice or six into the water, plus my muscles are stiffening up and this will help ease them.  Peter handles the heavy things and bosses me around so I carry the meats and salad to the table and even end up setting the table too.

 

By the time Derek and Erika emerge, with perfect hair, Peter is straining the rice and I’ve put the last glass of juice on the table, “Ah there you are, and here’s Boyd too, lunch is served,” Peter bustles towards the table and places the large container of rice in the middle with a flourish.

 

Considering they’re all wolves they do have some good table manners.  I help myself to the food, I’m used to Scott and if you hang around the food mysteriously vanishes into his stomach.  My new fake breasts don’t get in my way when I eat, I glance at Erika out of the corner of my eyes and, not for the first time, I wonder how other women deal with larger breasts, they seem to be designed to get in the way when you want to do anything.  My hair is heavier than I thought it would be and the weight is throwing me slightly, I’m sure it’s something I can get used to though.

 

“Stella,” Peter’s holding the mustard out to me.

 

“Thank you,” I take it from him and carefully put a dollop of it on my plate, “Would anyone else like the mustard?” I ask and look up to see four people staring at me in surprise and Peter shaking his head.  I put the top on the mustard and place it on the table trying to ignore the stares.

 

My stomach is knotting itself up but I keep eating, I’ve learnt to overcome the side effects of Adderall so eating when I don’t want to, but have to, is a survival skill, I know that eating is good, it will make me look more normal.

 

Normal is good.

 

And I’m normal.

 

I am, I’m normal, and I cling to that thought.

 

The conversation is a bit awkward until they settle on saying what they did for their run, the weather’s been nice and they looped around most of Beacon Hills, it’s been quiet on the supernatural front since they ran off whatever the last nasty thing was, or more like they lead the Hunters to it and let them get in a fight with it, it left, the Hunters are licking their wounds, and we’re just fine.

 

Everyone else finishes their food, and as Derek clears the last of his plate, I stand up and start to clear the table.  I carry the pile of empty plates and dirty cutlery over to the kitchen sink.  Peter’s rummaging in the freezer and ice-cream makes an appearance, that’s still a lot of ice-cream.

 

It’s an experience to watch Peter make perfect ice-cream balls and place them just so in the bowls.  I’m sent off with the competed bowls of ice-cream and serve everyone before I carry our bowls to the table, “Thank you Peter,” I murmur as he sits down to his own ice-cream.

 

There’s not much more noise except the sound of werewolves scraping their bowls to get all of the ice-cream goodness out of their bowls.  I delicately eat mine and they finish long before I do, this time Isaac clears the table, and then Boyd and Erika have to do the washing up.

 

Retreating to the bathroom to pee I don’t have to struggle with the leggings, they’re easy to use, and then as I wash my hands I double check that everything is still right and that my bulge doesn’t show.  And then I dare to look in the mirror.  I still look like a pretty girl, and so far no one has said anything mean or cruel, though I’m beginning to think I should hang around Peter because he’s taking it so well, and I’m scared what the others really think.

 

And it says something about my life that hanging out with Peter doesn’t sound that bad right now.

 

Stepping out of the bathroom I find the guys browsing the DVD collection and it looks like we are having a Buffy marathon.

 

Apparently being a friendless nobody has been good for me, because I don’t blurt out any jokes about Hellmouths and Beacon Hills.  Instead I walk to the sofa and I’m a little surprised when Peter makes me sit right in the middle, but them I’m in a Hale sandwich with Peter to my left, holding my hand, and Derek to my right, holding my other hand.  Erika falls to the floor in front of me pressing her back to my legs, she wiggles between them and I jump as her hands land on top of my bare feet.  When Boyd sits in front of Peter I get one of his hands wrapped around my ankle, then Isaac completes the set with my other ankle. 

 

As Stella I’m a little touch shy, but where they’re touching me is fine, and Erika is a girl so it’s more okay for her to be where she is.  The blouse is still covering everything and I settle in to see Buffy the Vampire Slayer try to attempt to evade her destiny as the Slayer in Sunnydale before embracing it, and being all kickass.

 

They should have more strong female role models on TV.

 

On screen Buffy navigates the horror of high school, while making new friends, keeping up with her school work, deading the baddie of the week, has eye sex with Angel, and saves the world more times than she’s had hot meals.  Plus she has awesome hair, if I had hair like that I’m sure I’d tangle it the second I stepped out of the house, or else I’d have to hair spray it in place and be a walking human torch waiting to happen.

 

The credits roll for the end of this DVD with its share of the episodes and I smile, “Girls rule,” because we do.

 

In front of me Erika lifts a hand up and I disentangle my hand from Derek’s long enough to high five her.  “Finally,” she says, “I’m not the only girl in the Pack,” she twists around to look up at me, “When you’re in a girl mood one weekend we are so having a sleepover, there will be manicures and pedicures and we are going to watch classics like Dirty Dancing, we’ll braid hair and eat way too much chocolate,” her eyes burn amber, “I’ve never been to a sleepover and we are going to do this.”

 

“Okay, I’d like that Erika,” I smile at her a bit shyly, “I’ve only ever done boy sleepovers as Stiles and guys are great but…” I roll my eyes and try to convey the meaning, she nods like she understands, which I suppose she does.  “And I’ve never seen Dirty Dancing,” she gasps like I’ve committed a major sin, “I’ve overheard other girls talk about it, and Top Gun…” From the gleam in her eye we can watch that one too, “Have you see Pride and Prejudice, not the film, one of the adaptions?”

 

“No, is it any good?” She’s leaning on my knee and this is nice, she’s treating me like a girl.

 

“Yes, I got my hands on the one with Colin Firth,” I tilt my body forward, “It’s not a perfect adaption of the book, but then it’s hard to capture the elegance of the book.  It does manage to get most of it right, from the bad first impressions, the mixed messages, the most atrocious declaration of love, the rejection, the family scandal, the save, the chance meeting, and the final moment where it become OTP.”

 

“This I have to watch,” Erika’s grinning at me, while three of the guys have identical expressions of ‘WTF’ and Peter rolls his eyes at them all.  “Hmm, I have to say I was worried how well you’d fit in the Pack, I shouldn’t have worried, I’m not the only girl now, as Stella we can bond and be girls, as Stiles I am so raiding your comic collection…”

 

I can see it now and I’m almost giddy at how accepting she’s being of me, even if she never does any of these things with me she’s made a perfect day so perfect that nothing can ever top it.  I have fake breasts, I have long hair, I have girl clothes that make me look and feel great, Peter’s shown me what I am, and now Erika’s indicated she’ll accept me as me.

 

“Okay…” Is all I can say back, god I refuse to cry in front of them, “Thank you Erika,” I’m blinking rapidly to hold the tears back, “Excuse me,” I stand up suddenly and try to flee for the bathroom to break down and pretend I have privacy, but Peter’s arm is holding me there.

 

“Stella.  What’s wrong?” He’s concerned.

 

“I got it,” Erika elbows him and then she’s dragging me away as my vision blurs, I know we’re in a room, I think it’s Peter’s.  “It’s okay Stella,” her arms are warm and I cling to her as I sob.  God it’s so stupid, so dumb, I didn’t know how freeing it was just to be me.  “I know,” she murmurs in my ear, “It’s the reason I said yes to Derek, just to be free of my epilepsy, to not have to face all the jeers, to not have to be afraid of my own body and brain.”

 

When I quieten down she pats my face, “Come on lets wash your face and then we all have to go home.  Okay?”

 

“’Kay, thank you Erika,” she’s being way more accepting of me than most people would.  I let her show me how to use the soaps and stuff Peter has in his bathroom, and wow, he’s a werewolf, why would he worry about toning and cleansing and moisturising?

 

Our little girl time together also marks the end of the day and it’s with reluctance that I lock myself in Peter’s bathroom and get changed.  Off comes the wig and onto its dummy head, off comes the clothes, the underwear and fake breasts.

 

Naked I breathe in and out a few times as Stella starts to sink down, full and happy and replete, and up bobs Stiles restless and just as happy, I feel balanced in a way I’ve not for days or weeks.  Humming a little off key I put on my boy cloths and stumble out into the main apartment.  When I remember my manners and thank them I get it waved off with a ‘You’re Pack’.

 

Bumbling home I don’t notice that I’m almost skipping into the house and when dad pops his head out of his office to greet me I chirp about the run and the Buffy and the food.

 

“So you had a good time with your new friends then,” he’s smile, “Good, I’m glad you’re happy Stiles, it’s nice to see you getting out and about son.”

 

“Thanks,” I scuff a foot and then grin at him, “I should get some homework done…”

 

“Okay, I have some stuff from the office, thankfully it’s only double checking some paperwork, I’m finally catching up, don’t stay up too late,” he tells me and I promise as I practically dance up the stairs to my room, I’m tired from the run still, and exhausted from so little sleep for so long, with everything that’s happened I’m just gonna hit the sack.

 

Changing into the PJs Peter gave me I pad to the bathroom to brush my teeth, my normal reflection stares back at me, boyish, masculine and Stiles, but now I know I can be girly, feminine and Stella.

 

It’s been an awesome day, in theory I should be too keyed up to sleep but I curl up on my bed and for once I fall asleep easily.


	14. Chapter 14

I’m not expecting a huge amount from the three Betas at school, I’m convinced they’ll keep their distance, that they’ll ignore me here and hang out with me where no one can see them.

 

I’m not expecting Erika to attach herself to me like I’m some kind of new awesome fashion accessory that’s a must have item.  But she does and the guys hang out with us too.

 

Frankly I’m a bit stunned by it and I pick at my lunch as they chat away and Erika lounges on me.  I think my new future as ‘The Stiles’ TM malleable chair pillow isn’t going to last long because Erika grumbles that I’m too thin and I need more padding.

 

Across the canteen Danny lifts an eyebrow at me and I shrug, well I try to shrug without dislodging Erika and earning myself a flick on my ear.  I think I convey, ‘I have no idea’ well enough because Danny grins and the next thing I know he’s on the other side of me joining in.  A few more of the guys drift over and somehow I’m on one of the popular tables.

 

For the rest of the day one of the Betas is with me, or one of the jocks and I’m included in all of their conversations.  I struggle to keep as quiet as I can, to not snark as much, to blend in.  It’s difficult, but I manage it okay in the end and I breathe out in relief when I can get changed and go running around the field.

 

Practice is brutal and I can let off steam.

 

Showered, clean and ready to go home to do homework I find that the empty house is still really depressing but I power through my homework, I’m rested, I’ve burned off my excess energy, and with the socialising I did today I’m way more focused than normal.  I still shoehorn in extra exercising and I make sure I eat well.

 

Falling into bed I sleep through the night and I’m ready to face the day.

 

In fact the whole week is just like that, the only blips on it are Scott glaring at me from across rooms, and Mr Harris is freaking the shit out of me because he keeps being nice, he’s not picking on me anymore and I don’t know how to handle that, and neither does anyone else in the class.

 

Saturday is an away game that we trounce the other team at, and I’m careful not to go to any parties, I’m wary of dad freaking out at me, we’re on a more or less even keel and I won’t risk it.  He keeps staring at me and I don’t know what to say to him anymore without screwing up, he keeps sighing too, I’m doing it all wrong and I just don’t know how to handle our relationship anymore.

 

On Sunday I bounce out of bed and get my workout gear ready, we’re doing more running as a Pack and Erika’s mentioned that Peter’s being sketching and fondling swathes of cloth like a madman so I might have some more girl clothes waiting for me.

 

I can’t believe I’m looking forward to spending time with Peter of all people, what happened to the chasing me through darkened schools and trying to bite me?  Though this is a good change and since I’m happy to ignore problems until they go away, I’ll ignore this one until I leave for college.

 

It’s drizzling slightly as we run and the ground is a bit slippery, I also learn that werewolf reaction times are freaky fast.  I attempt several unintended faceplants but each time, Derek, or Peter, saves me, they steady me and we don’t even break stride.

 

At the end of the run that I can participate in I’m sent to the apartment with Peter and Derek hovers a bit looking extra constipated until Peter flaps his hands at him and Isaac leads him away.  I’d wonder what that was about but I’m exhausted and I want my shower and new clothes.

 

Damn, I didn’t realise I was quite that shallow.

 

This time around I’m awake as we ride the elevator up.  Nothings really changed and I readily drink one of the bottles of water Peter’s stocked the fridge with.  I would balk at getting on his bed and having a nap with him but he’s turned his back to me and I am pretty tired.  Plus if he did anything to me Derek would smell it and rip his balls off, or maybe Erika would.

 

Instead of stripping down to his boxers, he simply takes his socks off and his t-shirt, then I have to spoon a rain damp Peter and it should be rank but he’s warm, I’m tired, and it’s like a weight is lifted off of my shoulders, I relax fully for the first time since last week and fall fast asleep on him.

 

I don’t think I’m asleep for that long and when I open my eyes I’m still holding Peter, he’s awake and my arm is around him in such a way that my hand is resting on his bare stomach.  His hand is resting on top of mine, he’s not doing anything just touching my skin but I can feel something I couldn’t before, like a link, I glimpse a flicker of something like contentment and then it’s gone and I can’t feel the link anymore.

 

“Stiles?”  Peter murmurs, “You ready for a special project?”

 

Special project?  I hope this isn’t some kind of master plan to kill everyone and install Peter as ruler of the world, “What kind of project?”

 

“I’m designing a dress for you,” he says, “I need your input on style, material, cut, colours, that kind of project.”

 

“A dress? For me?” That perks me up and while I might be Stiles right now I know I’m going to love it as Stella, or as Stiles, dresses shouldn’t have a gender assigned to the wearer.

 

He laughs, “Yes, a dress for you, now don’t be mad,” and I wonder what the catch is, “Derek realises what an oaf he was, and he wants to apologise to you again, without saying the actual words, and he’s paying for all the materials, so please feel free to go for the most expensive things I can find for you.”

 

Freezing in place I shrink in against Peter’s body, god that moment when Derek shredded my dress still hurts so fucking much.  It was my one big thing for letting Stella out, to embrace being a girl, no matter how antiquated and outdated wearing a dress to prove you’re a girl is.  It was a big step for me.  It was a way for me to acknowledge that I was a girl as well as a boy, and it ended up in pieces, ripped apart on Derek’s claws.

 

“Stiles,” Peter wiggles around and I’m engulfed in his arms, “If you’re not ready…”

 

Shaking my head I blurt, “No, I’m good, I want a dress, I want to feel like me, like I can be free to be me, but it hurt so much,” oh god why am I admitting this to Peter?  He’ll just use it against me, won’t he?

 

“Oh my dear Stiles Stella Stilinski,” he rubs my back, “He’s an idiot, he’s admitted he was wrong, and he wants to make it up to you, to try and give you a place to be you, to give you something to wear to replace what he thoughtlessly destroyed.  And while I’m convinced my nephew has been dropped on his head too many times, he is trying, badly, to show you he accepts you.”

 

And then I’m crying, oh my god, can this possibly get any worse?  I don’t understand why Derek’s acceptance means so much but it does.  To have anyone accept me means a lot.

 

“There, there,” Peter’s rubbing my back in soothing circles, he even croons at me as I cry myself out.  I end up with a headache, my nose is dribbling snot and my eyes are puffy, not that Peter seems to mind.  “Does it feel better to let it all out?” He asks and I’m too drained to do much more than shrug at him.

 

I get ushered into his bathroom and he hands me the same clothes as last week. I’m a little disappointed for a few seconds and then remember he wants to make me a dress.  Dragging myself into the shower I go through all the steps to wash up and make me clean for my girly clothes.

 

Just like last time the smell of the shower gel, the feel of the bubbles, even the way I pull on the underwear works miracles and I start to turn into Stella.  Settling the last piece of the blouse in place I look in the mirror and smile at myself.

 

I only need the wig now and I walk out of the bathroom a new person and she’s ready to take on the world.  Peter’s sitting on his bed, still in just his running shorts, he must have worked on my wig because it’s swirled up and pinned ready for me. It’s different this time, he’s put it all up and strung gold and yellow thread through it.

 

“Peter, it’s beautiful,” it really is and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to wear it.

 

“It’s only as beautiful as the woman it graces,” he says it without a touch of sarcasm and I blush.  “Now my dear Miss Stilinski, let us put the finishing touches to the piece of art that is you, and I will then join you shortly in the living room.”

 

It doesn’t take us long to get the wig on me and I let him lead me to his bedroom door, then I escape out and explore around the apartment again. If I were Stiles I’d probably stick my head around their bedroom doors and snoop on them, instead I snoop on the games and the videos, and while they haven’t changed since last time I re-familiarize myself with the titles and I find myself hoping I can come around after school to play games and just be a boy as well as a girl here.

 

Sighing softly to myself I know it will never work, I have to do all the extra courses to get out of Beacon Hills, to stop getting in my dad’s way, to stop being a burden, except the Pack isn’t acting like I’m a burden and Peter’s excited over making me things.  Derek hasn’t pushed me into any walls or even growled at me, Erika is practically attached at my hip whenever she can get away with it, Boyd even spoke to me on Friday, and Isaac is smiling at me.

 

A traitorous little voice points out that I’m being unfaithful to Scott, but Scott, my brother, has all but abandoned me picking Allison and the hunters over me.  Shaking that off I refuse to be sad when I have the chance to be a girl, to be Stella, to be a part of me.

 

Peter isn’t that long and strides out in grey slacks and a bright blue shirt that brings out the blue in his eyes, “Ah there you are,” he walks over with a swagger that makes me smile and I wonder when I stopped being so afraid of him.  “Are you ready to destroy Derek’s bank balance?”

 

“As ready as I’ll ever be Mr Hale,” and I appreciate the way he takes my hand in his and leads the way to the dining room table, he even holds my chair out for me.  I’m aware of how redundant it is to pin the label of gentleman on Peter because of such a small gesture, especially in this day and age, I might be female but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.  “Thank you,” I do have some manners.

 

“You’re welcome,” he sits next to me and pulls a sketchbook towards us.  “I’ve done a few preliminaries and I’ve found some material.  I went with the cream theme you had before and I think this would make a perfect base,” the material he hands me is cream and feels like silk to my fingers.  “I can use this to make that shape,” he flourishes the sketchbook at me, “See this basic simple shape of dress?  You’ll have your shoulders covered and it will hide any and all upper underwear so you have options, but then we sheathe it in this,” I have no idea what it is, it’s like the net curtains our crazy next-door neighbour has, but it’s so soft to the touch, it’s cream again but has outlines of leaves in brown and bronze embroidered into it.

 

“And this is how I envisage the finished article,” he’s done three drawings, the first the cream material and he’s right the shape is very plain, the second is just the net lacy sheathe, but the last one combines them and there is even a bronze bow in the middle of the dress. 

 

It’s a stunning creation and my jaw drops, “Oh Peter,” I breathe out and I want this dress, it puts my first dress to shame, this is like an epic dress that only models get to wear, or girls going to prom or weddings or…

 

“You like it then?” He looks pleased and preens next to me, “I wanted something you could wear in summer, it won’t be too hot for you and you could even have a matching parasol with it,” he’s done a drawing for that too.

 

I want it, I want it so badly right now.  I can see it so clearly, me in that dress, Peter beside me as we walk slowly through an olde style English garden, the sun beating down, the heady perfume of the flowers, the buzz of bees in the air.

 

“I… I couldn’t possibly accept Mr Hale,” and I really want the dress and parasol, the whole thing, just for me.  And I really can’t accept, I know you’re not supposed to let the guy who bit your best friend and then tried to kill you make you clothes.  I’m sure there’s a rule or something.

 

“I certainly hope you will accept,” he smiles, “Derek’s buying, and this would afford me the perfect opportunity to stretch my creativity, it’s been years, literally, and I yearn to gift the world with perfection, perfection only you could carry off, either as Stella or Stiles.”

 

Flushing at his words I’m not sure what to say and I bite my lip as he pulls another sketchbook towards us, “I know you have a very limited wardrobe as Stiles, but I’ve managed to come up with a few ideas I think you’d actually wear,” and the flips to a page with a t-shirt on it, he’s taken a Captain America t-shirt and a Batman t-shirt and cut them jaggedly across the middle in a diagonal direction, he’s then put them back together so the iconic symbols merge in a way that has me leaning forward and Stiles surging up.

 

“Dude,” I breathe out, “That’s amazing,” he smirks at me and I’m about to say something when he shows me some jeans that he’s done something that shuts me up and my jaw drops again.

 

“I thought these would be perfect for either sides of you, more androgynous than anything, change the things around them and you can be male or female, or even swap between the two,” and it’s like he’s smacked me between the eyes, the simplicity of his acceptance, the way he’s created an idea for jeans that works for all of me.

 

“Thank you,” I blurt out and I’m not sure if I mean for the jeans or being him, which is weird, really weird because this is Peter freaking Hale.

 

“You’re welcome Stiles, though now I need to measure you so I can start making these things for you,” he rubs his hands together, “I’ve found the sewing machine I want too, and with the new house we’re getting I have the perfect sewing room too,” this is not the same man that terrorised me in the parking garage, though in a way it still is.  All that focus that used to be on death, murder and revenge is now firmly turned to sewing of all things.

 

We end up with me standing there and Peter running around me with a tape measure, he measures everywhere and mutters to himself as he jots down notes and sizes, “Hmm, you’re putting on muscle Stiles, I’ll take that into account when I make the dress.”

 

I must be muscling up if Peter’s noticed and I smile to myself that something I’m doing in my life is working and doing what I want.

 

He’s just finished when the rest of the Pack roll up all unsweaty from their longer run, I’m so pleased with my potential new clothes that I beam at them, “I do hope that your run was more than satisfactory?”

 

They paused and blink at me, then Derek nods, “Yes, it was good.”  He hovers and looks a bit uncertain.

 

“Stiles Stella has magnanimously agreed to let me make the dress,” Peter says and Derek relaxes giving me a nod, almost like he’s thanking me, “Stella will look magnificent in my creations, if I do say so myself,” oh he is so arrogant.  “You and the puppies go and wash I’ll put the soup on, my lovely assistant can cut up the bread.”

 

And that’s what we do.

 

The soup is just out of a can and everyone likes tomato, the bread is fresh from this morning, and might be a bit hacked into pieces rather than delicately cut into slices, but no one complains.  And just like before we end up sitting on the sofa watching TV.

 

Well I sit on the sofa, Peter on one side holding my hand, Derek on the other holding my hand.  The three Betas are on the floor touching my feet and I’m more grounded than I normally am.  Erika’s head is resting on one of my knees and I envy her those curls and thickness, but then I suppose if I grew my own hair out it would be good too.

 

I’m reluctant to go home, I want to stay longer, but I don’t want to upset my dad, I don’t want him banning me from here, from this freedom.  I get changed in Peter’s bathroom and let myself be Stiles again.

 

Bumbling out of Peter’s room I wave to the guys, “See you at school,” they give various farewells, all in all this was a good Sunday.

 

At home I do more homework and some simple stretches to work on my flexibility, online games have taught me the importance of agility, and I’ve seen enough real fights to know speed and dexterity are also useful if you’re built slim like me.

 

A knock on my door makes me look up from my stretch dad’s leaning there, “Hey, how’d your day go?”

 

I want to hedge to hide everything but I force a smile, “Good, we did a long run,” well long for me, “We had lunch and then watched Buffy.”

 

Dad wanders into my room and sits on my spare computer chair, he’s not done that in so long, I go back to stretching unsure what to do next.  He clears his throat, “You seem to be getting on well with these new friends you’re making.”

 

“Yeah,” I nod, “They’re okay.”

 

The silence gets longer as I move to a new stretch, “Okay, that’s good,” he says and seems as lost as I am, “If you want them to come over…” He pauses, “Your friends are always welcome here Stiles, just text me okay?”

 

I blink in shock and bob my head in acknowledgment wondering if I could ever get them to come over to mine, “Okay sir,” I try for a smile and get a tentative one in return.  Finally something else is starting to go right again, I must be hiding my weirdness enough and not screwing up so he wants to be around me again.

 

“Good, that’s good,” he nods too and then points to the door, “I’ll leave you to your exercises.  Don’t stay up too late, you have school tomorrow.”

 

“Yes sir, they’re just stretches, I won’t be long now,” and when he leaves he gives me a smile.

 

I pause in my exercises and wait for his bedroom door to shut before I do a fist pump, my dad is talking to me again, things are looking up, all I have to do is hide my bi-gender from him and everyone else who isn’t Pack and I’m home free.


	15. Chapter 15

Dad’s given me permission to go on an outing the following Saturday with the Pack, not that he knows it’s a Pack of werewolves and one bigender teen, but he’s still trusting me not to get into trouble.  I’m taking it as a positive thing, I know we’ll never be the same, I’m not the son he wants, but it doesn’t stop me hoping.

 

Saturday morning I leave the jeep in the parking lot of the apartment and bound up the stairs to the front door.  Derek opens it before I can knock and lets me in, he points to the far end where Peter is beaming at me and the three Betas are hovering and grinning.

 

On the table are a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  These are from the drawings Peter showed me last Sunday and I can’t believe he’s made them already.  I get hustled into Peter’s bathroom and when I emerge I have jeans that are so gender neutral I can switch between Stiles and Stella as I chose and they fit me perfectly.  The t-shirt is awesome and I grin like a loon and do a turn on the spot so they can see it all on.

 

“Peter, dude these are awesome, man you really know how to sew,” and he does, he really does.

 

“Thank you Stiles, I’m glad you like them,” He’s acting magnanimous but he shoots the odd look at Derek and the others so I know he’s going to rub this in and nag them about designing things for them.

 

Derek quickly gets us out of the apartment and down to the Toyota he bought, the kind a soccer mom would get, he even traded in the Camaro for it.  Obviously he drives and Peter gets the front passenger seat.  The rest of us pile in the back and there’s plenty of room in here.  I’m next to Erika who instantly latches on to me, her hand twines in mine and this is nice, I don’t have to worry about her smacking me in the head with my own car part either.  Isaac and Boyd are talking about Lacrosse and Erika snarks at them because she’s not allowed to play on the team because she’s a girl, she does, however, have some very good ideas about tactics and the discussion gets animated when the guys start to listen to her.

 

Other than the odd comment from Peter or Derek they stay quiet for most of the drive and then Derek’s pulling up in front of the old Castle property, it’s one of those older properties that was built so long ago that the owners just added onto it all the time, to point that it looked like a madman put it together.  Then old man Castle got sick, his kids left him and the place just fell apart for ten years.  The last time I saw it was a year ago when Scott and I passed it for one reason or another, old man Castle had died and his kids were trying to sell it to anyone that would take it.

 

According to rumour the year hadn’t been kind to the house but as I stare out I realise the place got torn down and rebuilt, only not in a crazy way, in a smart way.  It still looks like one of those colonial houses you see on TV, three stories and if it’s the same as it was the front will be wide and there’ll be two wings out the back.

 

Scrambling out of the Toyota I can see the large number of vans and trucks belonging to the construction crew that are working on the property and they’ve done an amazing job of it.  They’ve even managed to tame the front yard and that was pretty much a jungle after all the neglect.

 

Derek goes off to talk to the foreman and we get left in Peter’s hands, as I’ve never been here before I get the tour from the outside, there are people working on the inside and for some reason Peter’s reluctant to let me near anything resembling a power tool. 

 

I was right there are two wings, or there where, the one on the right is still there, but the one of the left has been torn down and it looks like a gym and pool area are being installed instead.  I’m allowed to peer through empty window frames and I see big rooms and large open spaces that get Peter rambling about colours and furniture sets.

 

At the back where the end of the right hand wing ends he gets really excited, this room is going to be his sewing room, he’s measured the light and where it hits when, he’s going to do so much and he’s having a whole area so he can work on designs and patterns.

 

This is a different Peter to who I’m used to seeing.  Even as a somewhat insane murderous Alpha he was in control, well mostly in control, the wolf peeked around the edges all the time.  This Peter is smiling and pointing, he’s like a child, and when the sun glints off his eyes they flash that bright electric wolf blue.

 

A hand creeps into mine and I squeeze Erika’s fingers gently as we follow Peter across the partially built patio, we have to dodge tiles and sand, and I get to watch the workmen take one look at Peter and flee the scene at speed.  Peter’s still waxing lyrical about his sewing room and then we’re at the pit that will be turned into a swimming pool.

 

At this point Isaac also takes my hand and keeps me away from the big hole in the ground, seriously what do they expect me to do? Apart from fall in and get stuck.  They are going to build one of those glass type houses over the swimming pool so it can be used at any time of year, but in summer the glass can be opened up to let in the air.  Derek’s also found some material that mimics glass but will help to block the more harmful parts of the sun and not let too much heat out in winter.

 

There’s also a big upright board near the hole in the ground and I drag Erika and Isaac over to it.  The detailed plans for the house are stuck to it.  There are scribbled notes all over it too and I get to read how the house is going to end up.  I can see the ground floor is for all the normal house stuff, the kitchen and dining area is huge, like they’re planning for the numbers of people living here to get bigger.  There are two living room areas, Peter’s sewing room, what could be a party room with bar that’s next to where the gym is being built, I’m guessing so any party goers can get to the pool.  The second floor is all about the bedrooms and their bathrooms.  There’s a huge master bedroom with notes for buying a special big bed for it and one for Peter to make the sheets and things for it.  The bathroom and walk in wardrobe is easily twice as big as the one in Peter’s room and frankly that’s obscenely big as it is.

 

“Who’s room is that?” I point to it and then jump because Boyd’s standing right behind me and then he’s hugging me.

 

“Yours, that’s your room Stiles,” he says and this is the first time he’s ever hugged me.

 

“Mine?” They really did mean for me to have a room here?

 

“Yes,” Peter’s joined us again, “Once you joined the Pack we had to rapidly redo the plans and we decided you should have the biggest wardrobe and bathroom, plus as we’ll be taking turns sleeping with you you’ll have to have a big bed.”

 

I flush remembering the night I slept with Peter in his insanely tight red underpants, but then again he didn’t do anything, he just slept there with me.  And right now I’m surrounded by the three Betas, and all of them are touching me somehow.

 

“Okay,” I nod and then spot that the third floor is some huge giant library and study area, with other open areas, “What’s that?”

 

“The Pack room,” Peter says, “In our last house it was in the basement, we’ve moved it to the top of the house, we’re having various anti-flammable materials installed throughout the house and there are metal as well as other new rigid and loadbearing support beams being placed inside.  As its California we’ve also redug the foundations and added earthquake devices to help absorb the shock allowing the house to survive anything short of an eight or nine hitting close by.”

 

“Huh,” that’s not all they’re adding to the house and they’re over engineering everything.

 

“Yes, it’s going to be very comfortable and safe once it’s built,” Peter’s studying the plans, “Though it’s a nightmare to project manage right now, I’m helping Derek keep the contractors in line and making sure they aren’t cutting any corners, for some reason they seem to prefer him to me,” I fight to keep the smile off of my face he sounds genuinely puzzled, out of the corner of my eye I can see Isaac fighting a similar battle.

 

“Huh,” I repeat and now the workmen fleeing from Peter makes much more sense.

 

Wandering around to the front I let Peter keep talking as I hold onto Erika and Isaac and the knowledge that they meant it, they really meant it, they’re going to give me a room, a big room, and yeah it’s so they can hug me as we sleep but they want me.  They’ve seen me as Stiles and as Stella and they still want me.

 

I have no idea how I’m supposed to handle this so I just let the idea of being accepted bubble through me.  I can also see in my head the things Peter’s describing, how I can keep all of my clothes in my wardrobe, how I can be on the third floor with books and superfast internet access, there’s spaces for us to spread out and work or do research.  The patio out the back is shielded from view so I’m free to be a girl outside as well as inside.

 

That’s something I never thought I could have.

 

When I’ve dreamed of being free to be Stella I’ve always imagined it to be inside, away from prying eyes, but here I could be inside and then I could go outside and still be safe.  I could walk around and use the parasol that Peter said he’d make for me.  Maybe he’d walk next to me and offer me his arm as we strolled along the garden paths and into the woods at the back.

 

Around me the wolves are sniffing at the air and then Peter asks, “So Stella do you like the house?”

 

“Yes Peter,” and I realise I am Stella right now, I’ve switched around and I still feel safe surrounded by them.  “It’s going to be so beautiful here.  Thank you for letting me have a room here.”

 

“No, thank you,” he’s quirking his eyebrow at me, “Humans in a Pack are special and I think we’ve gotten very lucky with our one.”

 

Flushing at his words I shrug and then Derek is there, “They’ve been working on the woods, they’ve cleared a few pathways, do you want to check them?”

 

“Yes,” Peter glances at his watch, “We have plenty of time until lunch, and speaking of, who wants to eat at the diner?”

 

“Me,” Isaac is straight in there.  They’ve never mentioned a diner before and I’m going to ask but I get side-tracked as we’re lead to the woods and there are paths laid down among the trees.

 

“We thought it would be a good idea to be in the town this time,” Peter’s walking next to me and he offers me his arm.  Linking my arm in his I find it ridiculously easy to match our strides together, “That way it’s harder for the Hunters to get to us, and yet we have this little piece of forest right outside, and just because we’re supposed creatures of the night, no one said we couldn’t have civilised paths to walk down.”

 

They’ve not cut the paths too wide, but it is a pathway and I can see me walking along these in almost any weather, the trees whisper above us and I can hear birds chirping nearby.  We do the circuit with Derek checking the work every few feet.  Erika does the whole thing in heels and doesn’t get a speck of mud on her shoes, while Boyd marches along and Isaac sticks close to Derek.

 

Back at the house Derek peels off to tell the guys they did a good job while Peter makes us get in the Toyota, we’re going to go the diner next and my stomach rumbles as Peter holds his hand out to help me up into the Toyota, the seats aren’t that high and I wonder what he’s up to, but then he closes the door on me and I realise that Boyd’s done the same for Erika on the other side.

 

All three Betas are excited and debating what they’re going to eat, and the food they’re describing isn’t just fast food, it’s healthy stuff too.  It doesn’t sound like any diner I’ve ever been too before, “What diner is it?” I ask.

 

Twisting around in the front seat Peter says, “The Rainbow, it’s on the edge of town, I found it by accident when I was at the Jungle one evening, I can’t believe I didn’t know about it before,” and my stomach clenches because The Rainbow is well known for being tied to the LBGT community, hence being called The Rainbow.  “I’ve been reading up on Trans and I have to say I thought I got picked on for being Pan, it has given me some perspective and I’ve stopped wanting to rip people’s throats out quite so much.”

 

Pan?

 

It clicks, Peter’s Pansexual, where I’m Bisexual and like both sexes, Peter doesn’t care about what gender you may or may not be, if he’s into you he’s into you.

 

And then the part of me that’s so very Stiles and gets me into trouble all the times blurts out, “So your name is Peter and you’re Pan?  Did you make yourself some nice green tights too?  And if you did can you make me fairy wings because I loved Tinkerbelle’s wings.”

 

Uh-oh, all of them are staring at me and then they laugh, Peter adds, “I’ll make you the wings Stella, and I doubt you’ll catch me in tights, but I could be persuaded to wear green trousers.”

 

It keeps the others chuckling until Derek gets there and even he cracks a smile when Peter tells him what I said.  Part of me is waiting for them to kick me out, or tell me shut up, I’m used to that, or people just laughing AT me, they were laughing WITH me, there’s a huge difference.

 

They also talk about tomorrow and how they may have to rent the film so we can kick back and relax after our run.  Which sparks a debate about which animated film we could watch after that, and it passes the time to the diner.

 

The Rainbow is on the edge of town and everyone knows it’s where the weird people go, the ones that wear clothes that belong to the opposite gender.  Dad gets calls there almost every day where people complain and want it closed down, he never goes unless someone phones to complain about harassment then he’s there and tries to arrest the bigoted people for causing trouble.  It’s something that’s made me hopeful he won’t completely hate me for being me, a boy and a girl, but I know from the stories of the people he’s had to arrest that their hatred is blinding and they’ll take it out on him if they ever find out about me.

 

I’ve never been here before and I amble beside Erika all the way inside, it looks like any other diner except for the somewhat garish sigh proclaiming its name.  Inside it’s a mishmash of furniture, and I recall this place has been firebombed a few times, and broken into to have the insides ripped out and vandalised.

 

The waitress is friendly and recognises the others she quirks an eyebrow at me and then we’re lead to a big round table.  Handing out menus she says she’ll be back as I crack open the menu and start to read.  There are all kinds of foods here, it must be a nightmare to memorise.  And then Isaac’s reading the specials board and there’s suddenly even more choice.

 

I have no idea what to pick and I end up flipping through the menu over and over.  There’s so much I want to eat and my stomach rumbles loudly at me.

 

“Just pick something,” Erika says and points to the fish dish she wants, “See that’s good.”

 

“No,” Isaac leans forward, “You should pick this,” and it’s a Mexican dish.

 

Snorting Peter says, “Steak, is far better than that, and they cook it to perfection.”

 

Clearing his throat Derek says, “Pick what you want, and we come here fairly often so you’ll have plenty of chances to pick other things.  Though the steak is good,” Peter smirks at him and then the waitress is here.

 

They place their orders, and Boyd is joining Erika with the fish and I can’t make up my mind so I jab my finger at the choices and then get the garlic chicken.

 

Casting glances around the diner as we wait for food and talk about the house, I notice that everyone looks normal, which I know is a stupid thing for me to think.  I’m normal, I am, I’m on the internet, I’m a recognised subset, and that means that anyone who comes here is also normal, whether they’re recognised or not, they are exactly who they are supposed to be.

 

When the food gets here my mouth waters at the aromas, I’m used to normal diners, to food that’s cooked well but it’s somewhat the same, everywhere, this isn’t, this is like walking into one of those fancy restaurants and getting awesome food, it’s a step up from the places I’ve always been, that little extra effort transforming it and I happily dig into my chicken.

 

“Oh god this is amazing,” I make sure to swallow before I speak, “Seriously this food,” the others laugh and nod at me.

 

Peter cuts a piece of his steak and puts it on my plate, “I’ll trade you a bite of your chicken.”

 

That prompts everyone to share their food and we all try each other’s’, “Oh my god,” I cram more food in my mouth, “How is this food so good?”

 

“You like it then?” Our waitress flits past and runs her eye over our table judging our glasses and how full they are, my mouth is so full of food I can only nod and give her a thumbs up, “I’ll let the chefs know you like it,” she winks and carries on through the diner.

 

Eating far too much I trundle out after the others and pat my full stomach, the chicken was tender and moist, the veg were cooked but not over done, and the atmosphere was great.  I spotted a few of the drag queens in their civilian clothes and I thought they were going to ignore me but they waved and Ruby blew me a kiss.

 

Climbing into the Toyota I let Derek drive us to the video store and we really do rent Peter Pan because we all want to see it now and can’t wait for tomorrow.  Then we sit on the big couch and watch it.  Peter gets a bit of good natured ribbing but he takes it well as I hold his hand and Derek’s hand, and the three Betas hold my ankles.

 

Later as I drive myself home to grab my Lacrosse gear for practice, because Coach is evil and makes us practice if we don’t have a game, I realise this was the first time we’d done the TV watching thing when I’ve been Stiles, and it wasn’t any different to when I was Stella, it was just normal.

 

Maybe I really do have a shot of being happy, I’ll have to be careful but it’s possible.


	16. Chapter 16

Between school, Lacrosse, and Pack things, the next few weeks fly by.  I hang out with my Pack at school, Danny’s often with us there, and some of the other guys on the team rotate in and out.

 

Home is better too.  Dad isn’t working so many hours now the new people are settling in, he spends more time at home, with me.  It’s still awkward in places but getting easier, he still goes quiet and studies me but he smiles at me more too.  I like it.

 

Right now the crowd goes absolutely wild and chants Isaac’s name as he scores.  The final whistle goes and we’ve won, we’re on track for the championships, and we’re the favourites to win this year.  On the bench Scott and Jackson look bored and I don’t care because I’m hugging Isaac and then Boyd tackles me from behind and I laugh.

 

I never knew life could be this good.

 

Sent off to the showers we all celebrate and get changed, it’s a home game so the guys are stoked and talking about a party off in the woods.  Isaac and Boyd drift over to me and Isaac mutters, “Hey, if you’re free tonight, wanna go and catch a movie?”

 

“I’ll have to check with my dad, but if it’s just us he might be okay,” I tell them and grab my bag.  We leave the guys whooping and messing around and walk out.

 

Derek’s lurking in the school, he’s leaning against a wall and doing his normal scowly broody thing in his black leather jacket. Nodding to us he walks us out and steers us over to where Peter and Erika are standing, and next to them is my dad.

 

Dad’s nodding at something Erika’s just said and then he sees her looking at us and turns.  He honest to god grins when he sees us, “Well here are the conquering heroes,” he even slings his arm around my shoulders.  “Congratulations on your win, your team played brilliantly.”

 

“Thank you sir,” Isaac tentatively smiles at my dad, he’s not good with male authority figures, but now Derek’s calming down and being less of an asshole things are looking up for him too.

 

“And Peter tells me there’s a possible movie at the old cinema in the offing?” Patting my shoulder he says, “Well you have fun, don’t forget to eat something, and Stiles?”

 

“Sir?” Oh my god he’s letting me go out after a game?

 

“Enjoy yourself and don’t forget your curfew is midnight, you’ll be out most of tomorrow for your run and hanging out at Isaac’s, so you’ll need your sleep,” He squeezes my shoulder this time and I give a shaky nod.  “Good, have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.  I have some idiotic teens to keep an eye on,” he nods towards the other kids all being really obvious about the upcoming party.  “Who in their right minds wants to go out and party in the forest?  I thought kids these days liked horror movies, don’t those all end the same?”

 

Peter laughs, “Ah but don’t forget when you’re young you’re invincible, nothing bad ever happens to you. Though it’s tempting to sneak up on them and then scare them all in the dark.”

 

“Yeah,” Dad agrees with him and then the smile drops off his face and he’s staring in annoyance at Scott who’s hugging Allison, “Right off you go then, son,” He pauses and then winces before saying, “Stiles, I wouldn’t want you to miss your film, Have a great night out.  Call me if you need me,” he pulls me into a hug and holds it for more than a few seconds, “Be safe.”

 

Striding off towards Scott he doesn’t look back but I cling to the feeling of his hug and we leave the school parking lot.  I’m driving me and Erika to the movies and she’s sprawls out in the seat beside me, we talk comics and the woman knows her DC lore inside and out, it’s a treat to talk to her about anything and everything.

 

Then I discover she can now play DCU Online.

 

“We are so having a gaming marathon,” I fidget in my seat, “You have no idea what you’ve missed out on,” she gives me her sceptical look, one perfect dark blonde eyebrow arched up in an expression I’m sure was passed on with Derek’s Bite.  “Seriously, you and me are teaming up to take on the evils of Gotham, or running around Metropolis beating up the bad guys.  This is going to be awesome.”

 

“It can’t be that good,” her voice is amused.

 

“But it is,” I tell her about the character set up, how you can configure your character, the way you can amend the colours and the costume, how awesome it was to run around Gotham and the team ups I had with Nightwing and Robin.  “And you don’t have to pay for it, it’s free, limited but free. If you want the extra content you have to pay for it.”

 

“Fine,” she drawls the word out, “We’ll have a go at it, if I don’t like it I’m not playing though.”

 

“Okay,” I pull up and park next to the Toyota.  “It’s a date,” I jump out of my jeep and lock her up.

 

Sauntering around my jeep Erika smirks, “I’ll hold you to that Stilinski,” she holds her hand out and I take it in mine, her hand is warmer than my one and I grasp it tightly as we walk into the small cinema.

 

The guys are there waiting for us, there may be comments about how slow my driving is, “Hey, don’t hassle my jeep, she’s awesome,” I glare at Boyd and let Derek buy us popcorn.

 

Sitting in the nearly empty movie theatre I settle in between Derek and Peter, with the three Betas in front of us.  I’d throw my popcorn at Boyd but I’m hungry and eat it instead.

 

I didn’t bother to see what the film was and I’m happy when it turns out to be How to Train Your Dragon, I love this film.  And then it starts up and it gets to the point that Hiccup and Toothless meet and the dragon reminds me of someone, I just can’t think who.

 

By the time Toothless and Hiccup have saved the day I’m grinning because I know exactly who the dragon reminds me of, and he’s sitting next to me brooding and being all man painy.

 

Keeping my mouth shut all the way to the exit I can’t help mentioning that Derek and Toothless are very similar, to the point that Derek’s face screws up and he growls, “Stiles, I’m not toothless, I have lots of teeth,” his face shifts and he goes all Beta with the extra-long fangs and stuff, “See plenty of teeth to rip your throat out with.”

 

“Dude,” I hold my hands up like I’m going to surrender and then I dart behind Boyd, “Totally Toothless, I should bring fish with me tomorrow, but not eels, because Bleh.”

 

Standing there giving me epic bitch face he glares and then feints left before charging around Boyd to try and grab me, I yell and run for Isaac and skid around him, twisting and flailing I try to find refuge with Erika but Derek is hot on my heels.  Fleeing for the safety of Peter I nearly make it when arms wrap around me and lift me up in the air, I shriek and holler as he spins in place and the world tilts around me.

 

Laughing I feel the earth under my feet and stagger away from him crowing, “Totally toothless Derek, beware I may end up piggy backing you and making you be my dragon.”

 

“Try it Stilinski,” He growls at me and he looks all fierce and angry until his mouth twitches and while I dissolve into gales of laughter where I’m forced to lean on Peter to stay standing, he almost smiles and that may be the Derek Hale version of a laugh.

 

Spilling out of the building and into the parking lot we’re all grinning like loons, this was fun, and I have tomorrow to look forward to as well.  Dancing over to my car I open the door for Erika and drive her home.

 

Waving her goodbye I wait for her to disappear into her home before I drive home and walk into an empty house.  Dad won’t be back for hours and I stop in the kitchen for a small snack that I wolf down before I bound up the stairs to get ready for bed.  Pulling on the pyjamas Peter got me I snuggle into my bed and grin at the ceiling, Derek is so a werewolf version of Toothless.


	17. Chapter 17

Watching a grown man sulk shouldn’t be this entertaining, but Peter’s hilarious as he comes up with reasons why I shouldn’t be going back to the apartment with Isaac, who won some kind of competition to decide what order they all get to spend time with me.

 

“Peter, enough,” Derek growls as we get close to the cars, “You lost the competition, you go last, and you’ve spent all the after run times with Stiles Stella so far, it’s only fair for someone else to have a go.”

 

“Stop worrying,” Isaac says, “I promise to take care of Stiles Stella, we’ll have a nap, he she will get to shower and either wear whatever clothes he she wants to.  I won’t let Stiles Stella help in the kitchen too much either when I cook dinner, okay?”

 

Isaac cooks? 

 

And I should be insulted and say I can protect myself but Peter’s pout is adorable and he reluctantly nods before telling me, “If you need anything, anything at all…”

 

“I’ll call you,” I tell him and he looks like his favourite toy just got taken away from him as I climb into the driver’s seat of my jeep and pull away to go the Pack apartment.

 

Waiting until we’re out of ear shot I ask, “Has he been like that all night?”

 

“Worse actually, Derek had to threaten to gag him and tie him up in the old Hale house before he’d go to bed and even then he muttered most of the night,” They did some kind of game after I went home last night on Skype, and Isaac won, I’m the prize, I should be offended but I’m kinda flattered that anyone even wanted to win me, though it’s more winning time with me.

 

I’m stronger than I was when I first went on runs with them, the increased exercise I’ve been doing, coupled with the right diet, means I can walk into the apartment and not just collapse.  Instead I drink water and snack on a few pieces of fruit Peter prepared for me before I follow Isaac to his room and we settle down for a nap.

 

Isaac lays down with his back to me and all the wolves, even Derek, are looking forward to me spooning them.  Peter’s just shorter than me so it worked out okay, but Isaac is taller than me and my face squishes into his shoulder blades.  He takes a deep breath and then he’s fast asleep while I’m still figuring out what to do with the arm that isn’t wrapped over his side, seriously what do you do with that arm?

 

With Peter I just shove it under him and it slides under his neck.  Isaac’s too long in his body so I ruck it up and lay my head on it, it’s not that comfortable but it’ll do for now until I can research a better solution.  Closing my eyes I slip into sleep as the sensation of being safe and wanted washes over me.

 

Waking up I can’t feel the arm under me, it’s gone dead.  My other hand is warm and someone’s running their fingers over the back of it.  Mumbling I wiggle closer to the warmth in front of me, except I know something’s wrong, it’s not Peter, it’s too tall to be Peter.

 

Isaac.

 

“Hey,” Isaac’s voice is soft.

 

“Hey,” I murmur back and tighten my arm around him for a second.  “Sleep well?”

 

“Actually yes, I was kinda nervous at first, but I see what they mean about you and being the Pack human,” He wiggles around and we’re suddenly face to face.  “They said you’d become an anchor for us, we’d have our original anchor, which is our main one, but you’d soon add to it giving us extra protection and help in controlling our other side.”

 

“Really?” I’m good enough to be an anchor?

 

“Yeah, I can pick your heartbeat out from a classroom of kids now, if I start getting upset or stressed I try and listen for it,” And that’s something that Scott does to keep calm, he’s told me numerous times how Allison’s done that for him in the past.  “And this full moon Derek wants to ask to borrow some of your clothes, the scent will help Erika and Boyd with their control, their main anchors don’t hold that well yet.”

 

Huh.

 

“You must have noticed that Erika’s been calmer since she latched onto you, Boyd grumbles that it’s not fair he can’t do the same,” Isaac yawns, “You’re surprisingly relaxing to be around, you talk all the time, but it’s so soothing,” his head moves and he rests it on my chest as he wraps himself around me.  “You know you’re funny too, and helpful, and smart,” He noses at my chest and I flop onto my back, it just makes him snuggle closer to me, “So very comfy,” and his eyes are closed as his breathing deepens, that same wash of safe and wanted hits me and I blink because I think it’s coming from him.

 

As I’m no longer laying on my arm it starts to come back to live and I lay there as pins and needles fill my arm.  I squeeze my hand a few times and stretch my arm not really wanting to wake Isaac up, startling a werewolf into wakefulness probably isn’t the best course of action, they have claws.  Besides he’s fucking adorable right now.

 

Clicking a picture of him fast asleep with my phone, I move the picture to an online album I’ve been making, and I lock it behind a password.

 

I’m never going to be able to lay here for any length of time so I make the most of me being half asleep to think about what he’s said.  I’m acting as some kind of additional anchor for the werewolves, and if I compare how Scott is with Allison and Jackson with Lydia I might have similar calming abilities.

 

Erika has been calming down recently, she’s still a strong powerful woman who stalks the halls of the school like she owns them, which she kind of does with the way the others get out of her path.  There used to be the odd claw accident with her but that’s stopped happening.  She seems happier too.

 

I haven’t noticed anything with Boyd but he’s been smiling more and he speaks more often too.

 

An alarm blares out and Isaac stirs, “Urgh, is it really that late already?” He scrubs at his face and rolls off of me to snag his phone and stop the alarm.  “Hmm, I have to go and shower and start dinner, chicken’s alright isn’t it?”

 

“Chicken is awesome,” and I watch in amusement at how uncoordinated this creature of the night is when he first wakes up, he stumbles off the bed and stretches.  “I’ll go use Peter’s shower while you use yours.”

 

“’Kay, oh and Peter’s been searching the goodwill shops, he said something about not wanting to make you uncomfortable with always buying you stuff, he left you a new outfit on his bed, if you feel like being Stella today,” scratching at his belly Isaac ambles towards the door I know his shower is located behind.

 

Scampering off of Isaac’s bed with more grace than him, I hurry to Peter’s room and sure enough there are new clothes laid out on his bed.  The dress is in dark blue, and he’s posed it with the base of the dress all flared out to show the bottom panels and there are some smaller panels at the bottom, they’re black and the material is shiny.  Stepping closer to examine them I can see there are non-shiny flowers on the black material, I’m guessing that if I twirl the base of the dress will flare out like they do on TV and I’ll have a floaty dress.

 

He’s also bought me new underwear to match the dress, the blue is so close to the dress I’m surprised that’s even possible without using dye.  Oh and he’s got me long stripy socks in blue and black.

 

Carefully I take the dress and other pieces and put them in the bathroom, then I lock myself in and get to work.  His shower is absolutely amazing, it’s like standing in a waterfall.

 

Patting myself dry I gaze hungrily at the new dress and keep my grabby hands to myself.  I try on the underwear and it fits as well as the last set, which is really, really well.  Studying myself in the mirror I can see that my body may be sculptured like a guy’s body, but the underwear does something to make me feel more feminine and it comes across in my reflection.

 

Pulling on the dress I hook the hanger in the zip and do the back up.  I vividly remember what it was like to wear my first dress and this is nothing like it.  Oh it’s a plain colour and the fit isn’t that different but it is different, it fits me like it was made for me, I wonder if Peter made this or tailored it for me.  The long blue sleeves go right down to my wrists, the shoulders fit but also soften me somehow, the chest isn’t low and is very modest but my new breasts, or breast inserts, change the shape and hint at my femininity.  The waist is straight down and I feel a bit naked without something like a belt there.  My hips aren’t that spectacular but then the dress flairs out and pulls my eyes away to stare at the shocking peeks of black that shimmer in the light.

 

On go the socks and I check it out in the mirror.  The dress stops a little bit above my ankles so I can’t see the long socks that come up over my knees, I can only see the feet part of my new stripy black and blue socks.  They’re seriously comfy and I flit out of the bathroom to go and find my wig.

 

Peter beat me to this as well, everything is laid out ready for me and he’s put the wig up.  All the hair is gathered at the back in some kind of bun, and he’s roped blue beads around it.  A few strands of hair hang down and they should look like rats’ tails but instead they look elegant.

 

Remembering everything I’ve been taught about wigs I take my time to put it on properly.  Standing back I gather myself and step in front of his mirror and staring back at me is Stella.

 

Twirling on the spot I get to see the dress flair out and float in the air.  I can’t spin too much I’ll fall over and I try hard to burn this memory into my head, I never want to forget it.

 

Walking into the main apartment I find Isaac in the kitchen.  The oven is on and he’s standing at the sink peeling the vegetables.  He stops and peers over his shoulder at me then grins, “Well hello beautiful.”

 

Flushing at his words I’m not sure that to say other than, “Thank you, I think I like this dress even more than the last ensemble Peter put together for me.”

 

Shrugging Isaac goes back to the vegetables, “Oh I like both, you’re pretty enough you can wear anything and make it work.”

 

Now I’m flustered and I sort of hover there, he laughs, “Oh Stella, you’re cute when you do that, Stiles rarely blushes but then I guess I don’t call you pretty when you’re male.  Sorry man, guys are not my thing, hot babes are,” he brandishes the peeler at me, “And if any guy tries anything with you, you tell me and we’ll happily break him into little pieces for you.”

 

“Mr Lahey,” Oh my god, I think Isaac just went all big brother on me and is threatening to beat up any boyfriend I might have.

 

“What?  I don’t care who it is, they’re going to treat you with respect.  Erika can mostly take care of herself and she’d probably rip people apart if they disrespected her, or upset her.  I’m so not ready for anything.  Boyd is only interested in Erika,” I did not know that and I pull out one of the stools to perch on it.  “Derek is Derek and doesn’t seem to realise he can date, I don’t want to know about Peter, and then there’s you.”

 

“What about me Isaac?” I’m curious and sit there with my ankles crossed and my hands folded in my lap.

 

“You are extra special,” and he doesn’t have that tone in his voice that suggests you’re crazy rather than ‘special’, “And they had better realise that before they get to date you.  From everything I’ve seen, especially your long term Lydia Martin crush, you’re a one individual at a time person.  I may have let you fool me with your Stiles front but you’re a marshmallow really, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to try and save any of us at any time.

 

“So I’m returning the favour, I’ll rip apart anyone that hurts you, okay?” He dumps the potatoes in the pot and moves to turn the heat on.  “Male or female or other, they break your heart, I’ll break them.”

 

As Stiles I’d be kicking off and as Stella I’m in a similar frame of mood because I can take care of myself but I tell him, “Thank you Isaac, that’s very kind of you to offer, but I believe that should the person I date hurt me, I’ll be sure to take my own vengeance where it’s warranted.”

 

“Good,” he carries on with getting the carrots ready.

 

“Do you need any help with dinner?  I’m not that good in the kitchen but I can do some simple jobs,” I offer.

 

“Nah, I’m good,” He flashes me a boyish grin, “I’ve found I prefer to be alone when I’m cooking, Peter keeps trying to interfere and it drives me nuts, even Derek occasionally tries to tell me what to do here and then slopes off to leave me alone.”

 

“Oh, would you prefer if I vacated this area?” I slide from the stool and smooth the back of my dress down.

 

“No, I don’t mind company, I just hate being told what to do when I’m cooking,” He waves me back to my seat and I hop back up on the stall.

 

We chat about school and Lacrosse, then I discover he likes Mario Kart and we talk tactics and silly things that have happened when we’ve played.  By the time the others turn up he’s ready to put the rest of the vegetables onto cook and gives them a tight deadline to hit for dinner.  The panic on Peter, Derek and Erika’s faces are funny as they dash for the three bathrooms leaving Boyd standing there.

 

To stop myself giggling at Boyd I go and set the table while he grumbles about the others and how long they take in the shower.

 

Pouring the juice into glasses I get to see Derek step out fresh as a daisy and offer his room to Boyd to use.  Leaning against a wall he watches Isaac dish up our dinner, “We took the path out north, everything smells right, no new signs of anything, Beacon Hills might be quietening down for a few weeks at least.”

 

“That’s great,” Isaac’s straining the veg, “We can go to the cinema more, I’ve heard there’s supposed to be a How to Train Your Dragon 2 coming up, we can watch your alter ego fly around on screen some more,” he laughs as Derek mock growls at him and I giggle at Derek’s expression.

 

Rolling his eyes at us Derek doesn’t say anything but his mouth is twitching.

 

Peter chooses that moment to wander out in sprayed on black jeans and a deep green long sleeve t-shirt.  He still manages to look like he stepped out of a magazine.  Sauntering over to me he gets me to twirl and nods, “I modified it slightly, added in the black panels, tucked here, let out there, and as ever you look magnificent in it.”

 

“Thank you Peter, the dress is amazing,” I pause, “Isaac mentioned you were perusing Goodwill?”

 

“Yes, you’ve been reluctant to take my gifts, so I thought if you knew how little the base costs were, you’d be more amenable to accepting these paltry offerings.  And may I say my dear Miss Stilinski, the very tiny effort I have put into this simple dress is repaid tenfold with seeing how you grace it with your beauty,” I blush so hard I can feel the heat threaten to fry my brain and he laughs coming closer, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, now why don’t you tell me all about how young Isaac has been entertaining you?”

 

He holds his hand out to me and I take it and let him begin to lead me to the table.  Derek’s rolling his eyes at his uncle and Isaac’s grinning like he’s amused.

 

“Well Mr Lahey has kindly kept me entertained as he made us dinner by discussing school, Lacrosse, and then we chanced upon a mutual admiration of Mario Kart.  He sounds quite skilled in the game and I relish the chance to compete against him at some point in the future,” I sit down when Peter pulls my chair out for me.

 

“Mario Kart?” Peter enquires and we get interrupted by the others coming out of their respective bathrooms, with the new information Isaac’s given me I get to see Boyd’s eyes linger a little too long on Erika, and then Isaac’s carrying our plates over.

 

Dinner is awesome, the chicken pieces are so tender they melts in my mouth, the veg are perfectly cooked and I can’t help telling him, “Isaac, this is truly amazing, thank you so much for cooking it, you are incredibly talented.”

 

That triggers a round of everyone complimenting Isaac and he might be embarrassed but he looks pleased too.

 

Erika and Boyd have to wash up and Isaac gets to pick the next thing to watch, he decides to stick with Buffy, “We’ve already started it, we may as well keep going and finish it.  Plus Willow is seriously cute.”

 

When we all sit down I get worried that the socks will get in the way but no one says anything and I get sucked into the story line.

 

Reluctantly I get up at the end to go and change my clothes, the swish of the dress accompanies me and I really don’t want to take it off.  I stand in front of the mirror for far too long and then I do give in and take the wig off.

 

Back in boy clothes, I bumble into the living room to find Erika and Boyd both getting ready to go home too, they look as enthused as I feel.  The drive home is boring, the empty house a bit depressing as I lock up and go to my room to stay caught up on all my courses.  I may have been a bit over eager with all the extra stuff I decided to do.  If I could guarantee life could be this good I’d just complete these and then stick to my normal classes with only a little bit extra thrown in.  This way I could stay longer in Beacon Hills with my Pack.

 

Strangely I like being in Derek Pack and yes I can admit to being shallow because of the clothes, and god do I enjoy dressing up, but it’s the way they don’t question me, they just accept me.  They’re not sure what pronouns to use around me and I don’t know what pronouns feel right for me yet, so they use both, and they use both of my names.  They don’t laugh at me for the way I speak when I’m Stella, or how I ramble as Stiles.  And then they fight over who spends time with me like I’m a good thing.  Some of their attitudes like Isaac wanting to beat people up for me is annoying, I can take care of myself but then it’s also nice because he cares enough to want to do that, not that I’m going to encourage him.

 

Saving my work I stretch and eye up my bed, time for sleep and then school tomorrow.  I hum happily and get to my feet as my phone rings, it’s dad.

 

“Hey dad,” Oh god please let him be okay.

 

“Stiles,” He barks it down the phone and I wonder what I’ve done wrong, “Hurry, write this address down and get there now, don’t stop for anyone, and for god’s sake protect her from him.”

 

Scrambling for paper I scribble the address down I know exactly where it is and then he’s saying, “Break whatever traffic laws you need to, do it safely and get her out of there, I can’t believe that bastard is back in town, hurry Stiles, I daren’t trust anyone else with this.”

 

“I’m on it dad,” I promise and the line goes dead.

 

Mind whirling with questions I pull on my sneakers and run for the door, whatever this is dad’s upset and he’s trusting me with it.


	18. Chapter 18

Luckily the address dad gave me isn’t that far away and I don’t have to break any traffic laws to get there.  A very familiar looking car is parked on the side of the road and from the limited lights around it I think there’s steam coming from the front, guess the McCall car finally gave up the ghost.

 

The tow truck is already there and I frown because I can see the guy is getting ready to winch the car onto the back, and Mrs McCall is standing off to one side, but she’s not alone.  It’s also not Scott standing there with her.

 

Mindful of dad and how he wanted me to protect her I park up and slide out of my jeep calling out her name and waving, “Hey Mrs McCall!”

 

She’s a nurse, and she’s doctored so many of my spills and falls with so much calm down the years that when she spins on the spot and jogs towards me I’m shocked at how afraid and spooked she looks right now, “Stiles?”

 

“Hey, so dad rang me, and your chariot awaits,” I point to my jeep as I watch the man she was standing with walk towards us, there’s something about him, and then I realise its Scott’s dad.

 

Oh crap, not him.

 

“So,” I try and usher her to the passenger door as fast as I can, “Your car died huh, where do you need a lift to?  Work? Home? Somewhere on another planet far, far away?”

 

“Not work or home,” She’s holding it together but I remember when Agent McCall left for good how Scott got to stay at ours for nearly a month and how Mrs McCall was in the hospital for nearly a week.

 

“Cool,” I open the door for her and mimic Peter when I hold a hand out for her, she lets me help her in and that shakes me, she so independent, so strong, and I go extra protective.  Closing the door for her I whisper, “Lock it,” before it shuts, the click of the lock is covered by my bumbling and I turn to see Scott’s dad just feet away.  “Oh, hey Agent McCall, bye.”

 

As calmly as I can fake it, I walk around my jeep and climb in, I close my door and lock it.  Then I drive us away and Scott’s dad watches us the whole time.  I start navigating to go back home but then pull over and tap my fingers on the steering wheel, “He probably knows where I live, he did pick up Scott from there a few times.”

 

“Sorry,” Mrs McCall says, “I was out looking for Scott, he’s supposed to be grounded but flitted out the window to go and see Allison,” Big surprise that he’d do something stupid like that, “I didn’t even know his dad was in town until I bumped into him at big cinema complex, at least I thought I bumped into him, until I saw the same lights following me and the car started making noises,” her breathing is speeding up.  “I stayed locked in the car and the tow truck turned up. Rafe just flashed his badge and talked the guy into me going with him, it didn’t matter what I said, and I couldn’t get a cab…”

 

“Hey, hey, breathe, you’re okay, you’re safe…” And I get an idea, safe.  “I have somewhere for us both to go, somewhere he won’t know where to find us.”

 

Not thinking it through too much I dial Derek’s number and he answers on the third ring, “Hey it’s me, can I stay the night please? Something came up and Scott’s mom is with me too.  Oh and is there anywhere I can park the jeep that you can’t see it easily from the road?”

 

“Yes, we have extra parking around back, plus I still have the frost sheet for the Camaro,” He doesn’t even hesitate, “Tell us more when you get here,” the line goes dead and what is it with guys in my life and not saying goodbye?

 

Texting dad the words ‘Mission Accomplished’ I drive straight to Derek’s while watching for any taillights, hopefully Agent Dickface thinks I’m going home and he’ll wait for us there.  Pulling up at Derek’s I see Isaac waving and follow him around the back of the building, there really is more parking here and Derek’s holding something in his arms.

 

Getting out I hurry around to Mrs McCall’s side and she’s out of the jeep before I can do anything to help.  She’s staring at Derek, “Hello Derek.”

 

“Mrs McCall,” he nods to her and does his normal Derek over the top talking, which means he doesn’t say anything.  He and Isaac cover my jeep and the cover really doesn’t fit but it does hide enough that if you were looking for a bright blue jeep you wouldn’t notice it at first.

 

We ride the elevator up in silence and I hover near Mrs McCall the whole time and babble, “And the showers here are awesome, the TV is cool, the kitchen has pretty much everything you’ll ever need.  It’s warm and you’ll be sleeping um, where are we sleeping?” I eye the guys up.

 

“My room,” Derek joins in the conversation, “I’ll take the couch, it’s long and comfortable.  Stiles is in with Isaac, he doesn’t mind sharing. I don’t have anything on tomorrow so I’m free to be your chauffeur for the day, I don’t know how far the garage your car is being towed to is.”

 

“Wow,” I act enthused when she doesn’t say anything, “That covers pretty much everything and dad will be here when he can,” I babble as we walk into the apartment and Mrs McCall stops dead in her tracks when she spots Peter standing by the couch stuffing  a pillow into a pillow case.  “Err, you remember Peter, right?”

 

The same Peter who Bit her son, then tried to take her on a date so he could Bite her and get to Scott.  Who many have made comments about how gorgeous she is to Scott’s face.

 

“I remember him,” She stands a bit taller, “I thought he was dead.”

 

“I get that a lot,” He barely pauses as he carries on making Derek’s bed for him.  “Stiles didn’t give a lot of detail but the fact he didn’t take you home and instead brought you here means you’re both hiding from someone.”  Tilting his head at us he asks, “So who is it?”

 

Crossing her arms Mrs McCall glares at him and this isn’t going to go well so I shuffle forward, “Scott’s dad is back in town, he can’t be allowed near Mrs McCall.” I really hope they can all work out what I’m not saying, they all nod.

 

“Fine, in that case Peter will be with us tomorrow too, he understands cars so he won’t let the garage cheat you and an extra pair of eyes is always useful to spot danger,” Derek says and starts taking his jacket off and undoing his boots.  “Stiles please show Mrs McCall around so she knows where everything is.  I’ll grab a few things from my room and then I won’t need to go in there again for a while.”

 

“Okay,” I wave to the whole open plan thing and point things out, then I point to the doors and let her know what is where, “And that’s Derek’s room, as far as I know it has its own shower and toilet,” I ramble on and then my phone rings, it’s dad’s number, “Hey dad,” I don’t bother trying for any privacy, I’m in an apartment surrounded by werewolves.

 

“Are you both safe?” I can hear sirens in the background so I know he’s in the middle of something.

 

“Yep, safe as houses, we’re staying with the people I go running with,” I’m probably being paranoid but I take precautions because I really don’t want Agent McCall to find us.

 

“Good, stay there, I’m at a crash scene right now, but if he turns up, call me, I’ll delegate.  Feel free to not go home until I can get there, and yes that includes skipping school. Good job Stiles, I knew you could do it.  Can I talk to Melissa please?” Wow, he’s serious if he’s going to let me skip school.  Handing my phone over I stand a bit uselessly and eavesdrop to this side of the conversation and fight the surge of happiness at dad praising me for something.

 

“Hi John,” Melissa also doesn’t try to get any privacy, “Yes Stiles turned up just in time,” she gives me a quick smile, “Yes, Derek’s giving up his room for me and Stiles is bunking in with Isaac,” she pauses, “No, sorry I didn’t think, I’ll get that changed. Okay, just take care of yourself and don’t hurry, we’re safe here, see you soon.”  Clicking off the cell phone she hands it back.  “He said when the accident is cleaned up he’ll come over.  He’s also spoken to Chris, and Allison is missing from her room, so wherever Scott is he’s with Allison, again,” she scrubs at her face.  “God it was so much easier when he was just running off with you Stiles, you were easier to keep tabs on and at least the pair of you would answer your damn phones.”

 

Snorting Peter finishes setting up the blankets, “So he’s still cleaving to the Argent bitch?  Interesting that he hasn’t noticed his overwhelming obsession with her and how unhealthy it is.”

 

He gets Mrs McCall’s most pissed off look and doesn’t flinch, brave man, she folds her arms and I take a step back, well I might take about four steps back.  “Says the man that Bit my son against his will.”

 

Shrugging Peter fluffs one of Derek’s pillows, “Yes, sorry about that, but the Bite is a gift, if used wisely, for example curing his asthma, making him a star athlete, and now he has the girl.” Dropping the pillow Peter saunters towards Mrs McCall and I take a few steps forwards ready to protect her.  “Your son is annoying and blandly moral, something that today’s youth rarely bothers with.  He helped to hunt down and kill me.  He stopped a kanima from slaughtering the town.  He prevented Gerard Argent from turning with a very clever use of backstabbing treachery that surprised and impressed even me. So while I was insane I did Bite one of the few teenagers in this town that could not only survive the Bite but benefitted from it.  I can’t take it back, I can never take it back, but I am glad he and the ragtag bunch did stop me, because I would never have been capable of stopping myself.

 

“Now, I’ll get you and Stiles some clothes, you’re both closer in size to me, for the night.  We have some spare toothbrushes, and you can get some rest until the good Sheriff gets here,” he ambles in the direction of his bedroom, “Oh and by the way, Scott may want to shop around for an Alpha before he too goes insane and you have to watch us put him down, or the Argents get the fun job of shooting your son dead.”

 

“What?” Mrs McCall looks shocked.

 

Glaring at his Uncle’s retreating back Derek growls and tries to explain to Mrs McCall about how a Pack is set up.  They sit at the dining room table and I join them there as moral support, mostly to Mrs McCall but possibly for Derek as this is more talking than he’s used to.  The information on how the Alpha asks like the first anchor for any werewolf in the Pack is interesting, Peter never bothered with that for Scott, he wanted him to go feral and attack, but Derek stayed with Isaac, Erika and Boyd where he could, he spent time with them, he kept them in on the full moon.  He then goes on to talk about Pack humans and how we’re a second anchor for all the werewolves.

 

Glancing at me Mrs McCall nods her head towards me, “So is that what Stiles is to you?  A Pack human?”

 

Isaac is sitting next to me and nods, “Yeah, I can feel Derek as an anchor and I have my own anchor, that’s the strongest one for werewolves, but Stiles just adds to it.  Coach was yelling in class the other day and when he walked past me all I could see was my dad, the bad version of him, but Stiles’ heartbeat was in the room with me and Stiles was so calm, I latched onto it and I stayed calm too,” I didn’t know that and I put my arm around Isaac who rests his head on my shoulder.

 

Drifting over Peter sits down next to Derek and he’s brought a tray of warm milk and cookies, “Here, I brought enough for everyone.  And yes those are the basics, but if a werewolf doesn’t belong to a Pack then that wolf is considered to be Omega, and Omegas will always turn feral, they will go insane, their grip on morality and reality will slip away a little at a time, and then they attack humans.”

 

Biting into a cookie he smiles, “These are really yummy, I’ll have to get more, I think they come in different flavours too.  Now where were we?  Oh yes, little Scotty is clinging to the Argent brat as she is his primary anchor and he’s abandoned his original Pack human to make her his Pack human too,” It hurts to hear how Scott left me.  “Basically he’ll fixate more and more on her until nothing else matters and then he’ll escalate from warning people away from Allison, to physical attacks to outright murder of anyone he perceives as a threat to the only thing keeping him relatively sane.  He’ll happily kill friends, family, random passers-by, and then he’ll kill Allison and himself.  It really won’t end well,” licking his fingers he asks, “Anyone want more cookies?”

 

We’re all staring at Peter and he stares back, “What?”

 

Blurting out, “Wait you just said Scott’s going to turn into a murderer?” I knew the situation with Scott was serious but I didn’t realise how bad it would get.

 

“Yes, that’s why all Omegas are routinely killed by the Hunters, they pretend to wait for the werewolves to kill people but really they tend to just string them up and chop them in half,” Derek flinches at that.  “Seriously, does no one want another cookie?”  No one says anything and he shrugs, “Suit yourselves, I’m having another cookie,” getting up he takes the now empty plate to the kitchen and rummages in a cupboard.

 

Sighing Derek leans his arms on the table, “I can offer a very temporary place in this Pack to both Scott and Jackson, but I won’t offer a permanent place to Scott, not after everything that’s happened.  I know I haven’t handled things well, in fact I’ve probably done all the wrong things, but so has he, I’m trying to learn from my mistakes, badly, and I just can’t see him trying at all.”

 

There’s a blur as Peter zips up next to Derek, “Nephew, while I can see how being all noble and allowing Scott and Jackson limited Pack placement would stop the wholesale slaughter of the Beacon Hills denizens, have you considered how letting them join, however temporarily would affect the current Pack members and the freedoms they currently enjoy, here, in this nice safe place?” He doesn’t look at me, but from the way Isaac tenses next to me, and the way Derek aborts looking at me, I can guess Peter is talking about me.

 

“Damn,” Derek mutters and his fists clench as his glare goes up several notches.  That’s quite the dilemma he’s got, he can refuse Scott and Jackson to keep me safe as Stella but people could die, or he could let Scott and Jackson join for a while and I’d have nowhere safe to be all of me.

 

The yawn catches me by surprise and Mrs McCall reaches out to rub my back, “Well, we can all sleep on it and talk again in the morning.  Oh and Stiles will sleep in with me.  I’ll take the floor Stiles can have the bed.”

 

Confused I ask, “Why? I’m okay sleeping in Isaac’s room, he won’t hurt me.”

 

Instead of answering she crosses her arms, “Stiles, don’t argue.  I’ve had a really bad shift, Scott is playing me up, he could die and I just want to make sure you’re okay, okay?”

 

When she puts it like that, “Okay, but you should have the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

 

She’s going to argue about this, I can just tell but Peter clears his throat, “We have some camping gear, the blow up mattress should be more than comfortable for Stiles, or I can use that and sleep in Isaac’s room while Stiles has my bed.”

 

Hesitating for a second Mrs McCall shakes her head, “Thank you, that’s very generous, but if Stiles doesn’t want to use the air mattress I will. I feel better knowing exactly where Stiles is, and I’d prefer Stiles is with me.”

 

“Fair enough,” Peter goes off to start making my bed for me and Isaac cleans up the mugs and plates.

 

“I’m going to try Scott again,” Mrs McCall gets her own phone out and walks away to leave another message on his voice mail.

 

“Stiles Stella?” Derek calls my name softly and I look up, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just offered to take in Scott and Jackson, I wasn’t thinking, I’m so used to you being all of you that I forgot that not everyone knows.  It won’t happen again and we’ll find a way to anchor Scott and Jackson, and we’ll let you be you.”

 

Did he just apologise to me?  I nod and add, “Okay and thanks.”  I get a tired smile in replay.


	19. Chapter 19

Tossing and turning on the air mattress I no sooner get comfortable and drop off than I jerk awake again. I’m worrying about my dad, Scott the doofus, and also how to save Scott and allow me somewhere to be Stella.

 

Rolling over and I sigh and pull the covers up under my chin.

 

Dozing off I dream about dresses and the way they float up and spin around and around without getting dizzy and tripping over things.  The jingle of my phone going wakes me up as the masked man I’m dancing with at the end is about to lift up his mask and his burning blue eyes are boring into mine.

 

“Dad?” I mumble into the phone.

 

“I’m downstairs kiddo, can someone let me in?  I’ve left my car next to yours and that was clever, hiding it like that,” He sounds tired.

 

“’Kay, I’ll just get up and I’ll be right down,” I kick my covers off and reach for my socks.

 

“See you soon,” dad says. “And watch out for the stairs.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know what I’m doing dad,” I grumble, seriously it was one time, “See you in a few minutes,” I click the phone off and grunt as I get to my feet.

 

“Stiles?” Mrs McCall says sleepily and she’s been tossing and turning too, Scott still hasn’t phoned back.  Mr Argent’s phoned twice, Allison is ignoring her phone too, and he’s moving from anxious to outright panic, it won’t be long until we have to coordinate some kind of search grid in case something bad happened to them.

 

“Dad phoned, he’s downstairs, I’m going to let him in,” I tell her, “Give me a few minutes and he’ll be here too.”

 

“Okay, be careful,” she sits up and Peter’s shirt is a bit too big for her, while the sweatpants and t-shirt I got from him are a far better fit.

 

Walking out of Derek’s room I’m unsurprised to see Derek already up and pulling on his boots, “Peter said he’d make us something to drink, Isaac is going to make your dad a sandwich, and don’t forget to put on a coat, it can get cold out there.”

 

I didn’t bring a coat with me so I snag one of Peter’s and then Derek and I go and get dad.   He’s waiting for us with two duffle bags, “Stiles,” he drops the bags and drags me into a big hug, “You’re okay?  He didn’t hurt you?”

 

Oh my god, my dad’s hugging me, I throw myself into the hug, “Yeah, I’m good, he never laid a finger on me, he let me drive off with Mrs McCall without any problems.”

 

Fingers tighten on my back and dad nods, “Good, that’s good, Jesus kid I shouldn’t have sent you in there, but you know what he’s like, I only had newer deputies free, he’d have flashed that badge of his and they’d probably have let him take her.”

 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done that.  Everyone believes the myth that domestic abuse only happens in crime ridden neighbourhoods, or poor households with alcoholic or drug using men.  They never look at the picture perfect families or the ones that have someone from the emergency services in them.  They never believe that the people you’re supposed to trust and go for help could be abusive.

 

“She’s safe dad, she’s safe, I’m safe, we’re all safe,” I tell him and his arms squeeze me tighter.

 

“Good, now how about we go inside, I’m tired and if Derek’s okay with it, I need to sleep.  Tomorrow might be my day off but I still have Scott to hunt down, I take it the little brat is still out somewhere with Allison?”  He sighs into my shoulder.

 

“I’ll see if Isaac is okay with sleeping on the couch,” Derek says calmly, “Scott’s mom hasn’t said anything about Scott calling her, and Mr Argent is getting more and more upset about Allison.”

 

“Yeah I would be too if my daughter were missing,” Dad’s hand moves to pat my shoulder, “Which is stupid because boys can get into as much if not more trouble than girls, they don’t see the danger signs coming at them.”  His arms loosen on me and I reluctantly let him go but he keeps an arm around my shoulder.  Looking down at the ground he frowns and then looks at Derek who’s picked up the two bags, “Thank you Derek.”

 

“You’re welcome sir,” Derek is the epitome of polite and we ride the elevator up in silence the weight of my dad’s arm on my shoulders is comforting and I lean into him.

 

Stepping into the apartment I nervously run through the same bits to tell him where everything is, he nods and looks around and then Mrs McCall is hurrying over, “Jon.”

 

“Melissa,” I wait for him to move his arm from around me but when Mrs McCall actually hugs him, and my jaw drops at that bit, he pulls me close and we do a three way hug thing.  “When you called me to tell me he was there with you…”

 

“I’m good, Stiles recused me from him, we’re both good,” She says and I might be standing here with them but they’re both leaning into each other.  “Jesus Jon, he talked the tow truck driver into letting me go with him.”

 

“I thought he’d try that trick, I knew Stiles wouldn’t fall for it,” dad’s arms tighten, “I’ve already called in a few favours, they tell me he’s been reassigned and it starts tomorrow, somewhere in Texas, it’s a permanent posting, it’ll make it harder for him to hassle you from there, we should be safe after tonight,” I notice he says harder, not impossible. “I still want to wait and have the deputies check out your house first though.”

 

We’re still standing there and hugging and it should be weird, but it’s not, and this is something I wasn’t sure I’d get again so I just go with the flow.  I need to not talk and ruin the mood so I’m unsurprised when I realise I’m Stella, now I just need to talk like Stiles so I can hide it from dad and Mrs McCall.

 

A soft cough interrupts us, it’s Peter, “The hot chocolate will be ready soon.  And while my clothes fit Stiles and Melissa, I’m afraid you’re a bit big in the shoulders, I’m sure my nephew would be happy to donate something from his rather limited wardrobe, I do hope you like boring white, black or grey.”

 

Derek glares at him and I try not to smile, “I’d be happy to let you borrow something, would sweatpants and a t-shirt be okay?”

 

“That would be perfect thank you,” Dad says, “And if you don’t mind can I have the couch for my bed, while maybe you could sleep in with Isaac,” he frowns, “Or maybe your uncle,” that earns dad a bitch look off of Peter.

 

Isaac volunteers, “Derek can have my bed, I’ll just get an air mattress like Stiles and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

 

With the sleeping arrangements sorted out, and I notice I’m still in with Melissa, we drink our hot chocolate and dad calls Mr Argent to let him know where he is and it’s a bit of a weird conversation, “Yeah I’m here, no I’ll be in the living room, it has a good view of the front door.  Yeah.  No.  In with Melissa, no, yes, and you remember the talk?  Yeah, that talk, so it’s best that way.  Call if you see either of the kids, I’ve got the deputies out looking for them, in the morning they’ll start going off the beat and track.  Technically you need to wait longer to do missing persons but the way this town’s been?  The sooner the better.  Okay Chris, speak to you soon.”

 

And speaking of soon, I’m soon back on the air mattress and I can’t sleep.  Dad was checking his gun and eyeing up the front door while I shuffled off to bed.  I’ve seen that in movies, he was putting himself between us and the next thing through that door.  Only what comes through that door might not be human and bullets don’t work on things that aren’t human.

 

Eventually I do drift off and when I wake up this time it’s because someone is knocking on the bedroom door, I roll over and fall the few inches to the ground to flail a bit in shock.  Mrs McCall is more with it, “Jon?”

 

“Hey, Chris just called, Allison’s home, literally by minutes, he’s used her phone to call Scott, they’re all heading over now,” Dad tells us and both Mrs McCall and me are getting up wide awake with that news.  “I’m sure Scott will beat them here,” his voice is dry.

 

In just a few minutes we’re all up and sitting in the living room, dad looks vaguely amused and takes a sip of the coffee he asked Peter to make for all of us, “You know this tastes way better than the crap they serve at work.”

 

“Thank you, I normally abhor instant coffee but it was the quickest,” Peter’s still nibbling at the pile of cookies he got for himself.

 

Suddenly all three werewolves’ heads jerk and they try and act innocent but it’s enough to tell me Scott’s here already.  Dad glances at them and then says loudly, “Really, I can’t thank you enough for letting Melissa, Stiles and me stay here at such short notice.  And for making sure Melissa is safe and sound I was really worried about her for a while, knowing she was here took a load off my mind.”

 

Someone knocks on the front door and Derek gets up to go and answer it but dad waves him down.  He goes over and I do notice that he has his gun in his hand.  He looks through the spy glass and relaxes so I relax.  Opening the door dad greets the person with, “Scott.”

 

“Sir,” and that’s Scott’s voice, “Mr Agent said mom was here and that it was urgent?”

 

“Oh it’s very urgent, please do come in,” And dad’s voice is changing becoming more like it does when he talks to people down at the station, the people on the other side of the interrogation table.

 

“Thanks,” Scott walks in and spots Mrs McCall, “Mom?  What are you doing here?”

 

Normally Mrs McCall is all over Scott but now she sits on the couch and I’ve never heard her voice be so cold to him before, “Scott, did you bother to read the text messages or voice messages I left you?”

 

“No,” He admits, “I was busy with Allison, I know I shouldn’t have gone out, but you don’t have to keep messaging me mom, I can take care of myself.”

 

Dad’s face closes down, “Scott, that wasn’t why your mom was messaging you, oh and by the way your dad is back in town, and he got that close to your mom,” he holds his thumb and finger barely nano millimetres apart.

 

Going pale Scott shakes his head, “Dad’s back?”

 

“Yeah Scott, that was what some of the messages were about, your mom needed you and you just let her to fend for herself,” Dad crosses his arms and I can tell he’s seriously angry, like throw things angry, his voice hardens and he adds, “You were seriously lucky that Stiles isn’t as irresponsible as you’ve grown to be, because it was Stiles that rescued her and brought her here so they’d both be safe.”

 

“Stiles?” Scott sounds kinda lost and as I’m sitting next to Mrs McCall I’m surprised when her hand lands on my knee keeping me in place, not that I was going to move.

 

“Yes Scott, Stiles.  Stiles drove out all alone and picked me up.  Stiles brought me back here, and Stiles hasn’t left my side,” well the only reason I’ve not left her side is because she won’t let me.

 

At a loss Scott stands there and stares at me, then his mom, then at dad and back to me.  Dad huffs and then says, “This time you’d better have an excuse that doesn’t involve the full moon, because this particular stunt isn’t something you’re getting out of with the usual werewolf bullshit you’ve been spinning your mom and me.”

 

Werewolf?

 

What?

 

Wide eyed I stare at my dad and I know my jaw’s dropped open in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry AO3's been playing me up, didn't want to post anything for me for a few hours.


	20. Chapter 20

“Allison needed me,” Scott says and I know I’m rolling my eyes at him while wanting to know how dad knows about werewolves. What is surprising is that my dad is putting his gun away and crossing his arms, while Scott’s mom’s hand tightens on my leg for a second and when I glance at her she’s furious.

 

“Really?” Dad’s voice is too even, too calm.  “And how did you she need you Scott?  What was so important that you ditched your mom to go and see Allison even though you’re grounded?”

 

“She just, she just needed me,” And while Scott is so over the top with his Allison orientated life his voice is off, like he’s reading a script.

 

“Uh-huh, not good enough Scott,” Dad isn’t buying it, “I need to know the exact reason she needed you so badly you broke your grounding and then left your mom to fend off your dad.”

 

“She needed me,” Is all Scott repeats only his eyes are glowing amber like the wolf is just under the surface of his skin.   “No one gets how much she needs me.  I have to be there for her,” there’s a touch of desperation there now.

 

Still floundering at the knowledge that dad knows about werewolves I notice the three other werewolves exchanging significant glances.  Paying closer attention to Scott I can see his hair is getting unruly again, his clothes are a little looser, and even though his eyes are gleaming brightly it’s more feverish than anything.  He’s a werewolf and he looks like he’s getting sick, that should be impossible, his immune system should heal him from pretty much anything, even wolfsbane if you can get him away from it fast enough.

 

Other than lacrosse practice I’ve not really seen Scott for months, and while I’ve been suffering and barely coping, it seems I’ve not been the only one. “Dude,” I ask him, “Are you sure it’s not you that needs Allison?”

 

“She needs me,” Is the only reply I get.

 

“Crap,” Dad mutters and shakes his head, “This isn’t good, is it,” he states and stares at Derek.

 

“No,” Peter answers him, “We must be getting close to the point where Scott will have to be put down, he’s already exhibiting the main signs.  You said the Argents are coming over?” And when Dad nods Peter shrugs, “Well in that case Chris can do something useful and put Scott out of his misery.”

 

“What?” Scott’s whole face goes full Beta and he growls at Peter.

 

Unperturbed Peter merely says, “I said Chris could put you out of your misery, this way you won’t go to your grave having already murdered your family and friends.”

 

Oh my god.  The reality of what Peter and then Derek have been saying about Scott comes crashing down, the boy I grew up with, the boy who’s been a brother to me for years is going insane, feral, and he’s going to hurt people.  Scott the guy who tries to help everyone, who hates killing spiders and tries to save them from his mom, is going to be a remorseless killer.

 

Luckily we’re all saved by the bell as the Argents arrive.  We wait in silence and the second dad lets the Argents in Scott is by Allison’s side and holding her hand.  It’s like we don’t exist in his world anymore.  The only thing that matters to him is Allison.

 

Allison doesn’t seem that upset and she’s smiling at Scott but Mr Argent isn’t smiling, normally I’d think he was being anit-werewolf like he usually is, but he’s also looking at dad and Mrs McCall and they’re doing the significant glances thing.  There’s a whole load of subtext going on without any words.

 

“Well?” Mr Argent asks.

 

“Derek told me a few things,” Mrs McCall waves at the Alpha werewolf, “Its worse that we thought.  Derek can you please tell Jon and Chris what you told me earlier?”

 

We relocate to the dining room table again, and Peter acts like the perfect host offering drinks to everyone, except the Argents and Scott, until Derek growls at him and then he stomps off to get three more mugs. Somehow the gentle way he puts the mugs down speaks greater volumes than if he’d slammed them in front of them.

 

Sitting there I have to listen to Derek explain what happens to a werewolf when they don’t have an Alpha, again.  It hasn’t gotten any better since the first time I heard it, and having Scott sit at the table with us brings the whole thing home with a vengeance.  We can all see for ourselves how Scott’s acting, he’s only paying attention to Allison, he’s ignoring everything Derek’s saying, and suddenly I understand why Peter mentioned having Scott put down, because he can’t be far from going completely insane and turning homicidal.

 

“Jesus,” Chris rubs a hand over his face, “I thought he was a fringe member of Derek’s Pack, I didn’t know he was a full Omega.  If I asked him about his Pack he’d say they’re doing fine, and I’ve seen the other teenage wolves around town and they’re clearly doing okay.”

 

“No,” Peter smirks, “Scott was quite happy to tell Derek to get lost after the kanima incident, and frankly after his little stunt with the backstabbing betrayal, I would have thought you’d have known Derek wouldn’t take him back.”

 

Mrs McCall shakes her head, “But he said he was in a Pack, that his Pack was okay, we assumed you’d worked it out.” Turning to Scott she asks, “Scott?  Who’s in your Pack?” And that’s a pretty smart question.

 

“Hmm?” Scott looks up and blinks at us, “Pack?  Oh me and Allison mom, you know that, we don’t need anyone except each other, just us,” his voice is dreamy and unfocused and for the first time I get to see Allison look upset and even a bit afraid of Scott, because she’s listening to us, and she’s really looking at Scott without the love blinding goggles on.

 

“Well crap,” Dad crosses his arms again, “That’s making far too much sense right now.  Scott?” He leans forward, “Scott I need to ask you some things, can you answer me kiddo?” And he’s no longer openly angry, he’s voice is softening and I’m reminded of the time he talked a high as fuck drug addict down so the EMTs could get to the guy.

 

“Hmm? Sure, what did you need to know?” Scott’s staring at a very uncomfortable Allison with that same love sick look on his face, only it’s not cute anymore, it’s fairly creepy instead.

 

“Scott, you know we had that big talk last November?” Dad asks him and waits for Scott to nod, “All about werewolves and Packs?”  He gets another nod and I really want to know about that now, Scott had no right to tell my dad without running it past me first. “When you said you were in a Pack, did you mean a Pack with just you and Allison in it?”  The nods are getting as creepy as his unblinking stares at Allison are.  “Okay, thanks Scott, now what about Stiles?” What about me?  “You said for Thanksgiving and Christmas that the Pack was going to be together but Stiles wasn’t there, why wasn’t Stiles there?”

 

What?  Dad didn’t want me there, I didn’t even know about dad spending Christmas at the McCalls’ until the dispatcher told me he was there.

 

“Stiles isn’t Pack,” Scott’s hand reaches out and he pets Allison’s hair and I’m really starting to freak out about him, this is so far beyond what an in love teenager should be like.  “I’m not going to let Stiles re-join the Pack until he apologies to Allison, he upset her, no one should upset Allison,” a thread of anger enters his voice.  “And anyway you’ve been upset with Stiles and hanging out at ours with mom, you didn’t want him around either.”

 

That one hits hard and I flinch even as dad, Mrs McCall and Mr Argent take an indrawn breath, “Aw crap,” dad whispers, and I’m getting a very strong suspicion that there’s a hell of a lot more going on than I thought there was.

 

“Scott,” Mr Argent says softly like he’s worried Scott will spook.  “I don’t remember Allison telling me that Stiles upset her, in fact she’s been upset that Stiles hasn’t been around, that he’s been avoiding her,” She has?  ”Can you tell me what he did to upset her?”

 

“He was being stupid,” Scott says angrily and his face shifts going halfway to this Beta face.  “All he had to do was go down into the basement and get some stuff that Allison wanted put in the garage, but he wouldn’t go down there, he kept pretending to get upset and then he yelled at Allison,” He growls and looks at me, he’s wolfed out fully now and I see Derek and Peter both start to crouch in their seats their own eyes burning brightly.  “He said things that upset her and made her think of her mom, she cried,” he’s snarling and gnashing his teeth, I can see his claws are growing as they begin to put gouges in the table.  “No one makes Allison cry, no one, I’ll never let them do that to her.”

 

I have less than a second to react and I manage to slip under the table as Scott lunges across the table at me howling for my blood.  Scrambling down the other end of the table, I have to crawl over people’s feet as they try to get away from Scott’s attack, and when I make out I find Isaac waiting for me, the sounds of fighting are coming from behind me.

 

Isaac wastes no time hauling me out from under the table and pushing me to the far end of the apartment.  Mrs McCall is with us and trailing us are dad, Allison and Mr Argent, various weaponry trained on the three werewolves near the table.

 

Derek and Peter stayed behind to battle Scott.  Derek is an Alpha and he’s faster and stronger than Scott, but he’s not got his claws out, Scott does, and there’s blood flying everywhere as the pair of them fight.  Peter is circling them and watching, I know he was weak when he came back but I want to scream at him to just help Derek, or Scott, or both.

 

And then Peter does move.

 

He darts in fast and his hand is a blur, then Derek and Peter are cradling a too still Scott and there’s even more blood pouring out over the floor.

 

“Scott!” I scream at the same time as Mrs McCall though neither of us move closer we kind of cling to each other and wait.

 

“Scott,” Allison whispers and her dad puts his arm around her while never taking his eyes, or weapon, off the scene unfolding in front of us.

 

Isaac shudders out a breath, “I can still hear his heart beating, it’s slow but it’s there,” and then Derek’s nodding and picking Scott up in his arms.

 

“He’ll live, Peter isn’t an Alpha, so the wounds will close soon, he’ll be fine, battered but fine,” Derek stands up and frowns, “We don’t have a lot of time, if I’m going to dominate him and become his Alpha, however temporary, we have to do it while he’s too weak to fight back.”

 

“Now’s the best time then,” Peter’s shaking his hand and grimacing at the blood on his fingers, “If he can be bound to the Pack and then allowed to sleep though his healing, it should stabilise his anchors, meaning we might be able to reason with him when he wakes up, that way he won’t reject the bond and he has a shot at living out the rest of this life.”

 

“Do it,” Mrs McCall’s voice is hard, “He’s tried it his way and it’s not working, if he really can’t stand Derek as his Alpha then is there any way we can find him another Alpha when he’s no longer like this?”

 

“Yes,” Peter says, “They may not want him, he’s been Omega for a while, and our Pack isn’t that established, but it’s an option.”

 

“Fine, than as his mother I give you permission to become his Alpha until he can decide for himself, and if necessary find a new Alpha for him,” Mrs McCall sort of collapses into me, “Now I just have to hope he forgives me for this one day.”

 

It doesn’t take long, Derek roars into Scott’s face and Scott opens his eyes long enough for them to glow golden. Derek starts to reassure him in a soft voice and takes some of his pain before carrying him into Isaac’s room to let him sleep it off.

 

We converge on the couch and it’s a very subdued group of people that sit there and try and deal with the fallout of what the hell just happened. Sitting between dad and Mrs McCall I’m still trying to process the fact that dad knows werewolves are real and he did want to spend time with me at Christmas, mostly I feel numb and my head is swirling like crazy.

 

Of course it has to be Peter who breaks the silence, “Well that was very dramatic wasn’t it.”


	21. Chapter 21

No one says anything, we just sort of huddle there.  I saw Scott at his worst when he first turned and yeah there were a few hairy moments where he learnt to control his wolfy side, but I’ve never seen him like he was just now.

 

I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep but as the adrenaline wears off my eyes close and dad’s shoulder is so comfy that I drift off with questions circling my head like vultures.

 

Something wakes me up and I twitch as I open my eyes.  I’m confused at first because this is so not my room and then I remember and I find I’m curled up against my dad, Mrs McCall is pressed against my back and this is surreal enough that I wonder if I’m still dreaming.  I daren’t hope that dad likes me, I daren’t read into what happened earlier, I could so easily have misread it because I want it to so very fucking much.

 

Someone’s awake and moving around the kitchen.  Twisting slightly I can see Peter puttering around in the kitchen and I think he’s making breakfast.  Half asleep I watch him messing around and then I can smell pancakes and the sound of a coffee maker is humming in the background.

 

While we’re probably all exhausted, yesterday was a hell of a long day, we all start waking up and Mr Argent curses softly when he checks the time, “Ten in the morning?  I need to phone work, and the school.”  Allison is curled into his side, “Hey sweetheart, can I move to grab my phone please?”

 

“Sure,” she sits up properly, yawns and stretches.  She looks over towards Isaac’s closed bedroom door and bites her lip.

 

“He’s still asleep,” Derek tells her from where he’s curled up against the wall, Isaac’s head is pillowed on his shoulder, and for the first time I can see him being a kind of father figure.  A really bad one, because this is Derek, but a father figure none the less, and that is a fairly scary thought.

 

Dad moves and grunts, “Did anyone call the school yet?”

 

“No,” Chris says dialling someone, “I’m going to tell them about Allison and how Scott wasn’t feeling well.”

 

“Okay,” Dad wiggles and gets his own phone, “I’ll do Stiles and Isaac then,” an arm tightens around me, “I won’t be long Stiles,” and then he kisses me on the forehead, and I freeze because he kissed me on the freaking forehead, so I might not be reading into anything, it might actually be true.

 

He stands up and I instantly miss him, not the least because he was warm and then Mrs McCall is stretching behind me and Derek tells her Scott’s still sleeping.  “Good, he needs sleep, the amount of sneaking around he’s been doing to see Allison isn’t leaving him a lot of time.  Has someone called the school yet?”

 

Ten minutes later and we’re all awake and up, baring Scott, and eating breakfast.  Peter did make pancakes and they are awesome.  My stomach is in knots but I push past that, I need the food, I have to look normal.  I know I’m normal, but I have to look more normal than the other normal people, so no one suspects me of being a different type of normal, and that makes sense to me right now when very little else in my life actually makes any sense.

 

The adults have all phoned in to the school and the four of us have come down with some mystery bug. Mrs McCall used her nursing skills to convince the school it’s probably just a twenty four hour bug and we’ll be back tomorrow.  It also means we have today to make plans and come up with ideas.

 

I think I know where this is going to go.  It makes sense that Derek will be Scott’s Alpha and that Scott will have to spend time here with Derek to cement that bond and claw his way back from Crazytown.  The downside of that is me losing a place I can be Stella, I’ll have to stick to just boy stuff so Scott doesn’t find out about me.  It’s both not a big deal and a big deal at the same time.  I liked having somewhere safe to be all of me.

 

Bracing myself for the inevitable I wrap my arms around me and wait for the adults to come to the same conclusion and for part of my life to go on hold again.

 

I’m fairly sure that Derek and Peter will do their best to make sure I can let my Stella side out, after all I’m the pack human, I’m going to be taking naps with them, I can be all of me behind closed and locked doors, so it won’t be as bad as it used to be.  I won’t ever have to hide myself from them.

 

Dad gets up and rummages around in one of the duffle bags, he’s soon back and then a few pill pots are put down.  One of them is my Adderall, and the others are his, like his vitamins and the one the doctor gave him.  We take our medication in silence and he sips his coffee as I drink my milk.

 

Clearing his throat dad starts the ball rolling, “Ideas on how we handle this?”

 

Peter looks up from clearing the plates off the table, “Kill Scott?”

 

He gets glared at by everyone, “That’s the path we take after we’ve exhausted the other possibilities,” Surprisingly comes from Chris, “Though we will have to be prepared for it,” is said to Mrs McCall who’s mimicking me and wrapping her arms around her middle, the horrifying thing is she nods even though she won’t look at Chris.  “Melissa,” He sighs, “No one wants that, but you saw him, he’s worse than we thought, if he goes fully Feral, he will hurt people, even you, even Allison.”

 

“That reasoning doesn’t make it easier to accept,” Mrs McCall’s voice is hard and she’s glaring even harder at Mr Argent, “You try and think about killing your child and tell me it’s something you’d be able to do.”

 

He grimaces and looks away from her, “I already have had to think about it,” my jaw drops at that and I stare at him in shock.  “Gerard was able to turn my sister into someone that… That could kill innocent children and not care,” A clatter comes from the kitchen, “And he even got to Victoria, he got my wife to try and kill Scott at a rave, a rave she knew Scott would be at trying to stop the Kanima from killing its next victim.”

 

A gasp comes from Allison, “No, she wouldn’t,” Swinging around Allison points accusingly at Derek, “He Bit her, he Bit her because he was out of control and drunk on power wanting Betas, just like he Bit Isaac, Erika and Boyd.”

 

Hunching his shoulders Derek stares at the table and says nothing though Isaac growls, “Right, he was so out of control when he Bit me that he told me everything first, he gave me days to make up my mind about the Bite, he stayed with me as much as he could.”

 

“Enough,” Chris says it quietly but it cuts through the room.  “There was a large circle of mountain ash around the rave, who did that?”

 

“Stiles did,” Allison drops me in it and everyone looks at me, “Deaton gave him the mountain ash to trap the Kanima and its Master in the building.  We were going to tranquilise Jackson and then get everyone else out of the building so we could find out who the Master was and knock them out too.”

 

Dad nods impressed, “Simple process of elimination plan, remove everyone else and whoever’s left was your guy.”

 

“Exactly,” Allison agrees, “Only something went wrong, Stiles wasn’t able to make the circle, it didn’t work,” now it’s my turn to look at the table, I totally made the circle, the circle I didn’t have enough ash to make, the circle I made through believing, the same circle Derek an Alpha werewolf couldn’t cross.

 

Snorting Isaac leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Oh Stiles made the circle, we couldn’t cross it, none of us could, it was like slamming into a wall.  But Stiles broke it when your mom tried to murder your boyfriend and setting it up to look like an asthma attack.  Derek couldn’t get in to save him until Stiles broke the circle.  Boyd was full of the bullets your dad and his bullying thugs riddled him with.  I was with Erika and we were struggling to keep Jackson down and out.  There was no one else to save Scott, so Derek got Stiles to break the circle and charged in to save him.” Putting his hands on the table Isaac half rises out of his chair, “You run straight into a room filled with wolfsbane smoke and get beaten up by an extremely dangerous murderous hunter and you see if you don’t bite them in self-defence,” Isaac all but yells at Allison.

 

Peter rejoins us at the table and he looks in control except his eyes are glowing blue, “An entire building?  Well done Stiles, very few people can make the circles let alone a big one.”

 

That makes Allison gape at me as I feel dad’s arm land gently on my shoulder, in a small voice she asks, “Stiles?  Did you really make the circle?”

 

“Yes,” I say it just as quietly and she looks so betrayed I flinch and lean into dad.

 

“Oh, Scott never said, he just kept changing the subject and then mom,” her breath shudders out of her, “Oh god, mom really tried to kill Scott didn’t she.”

 

“Yeah sweetheart she really did,” and Chris sounds broken.  “I don’t know how Gerard got to her, but I know he had a hand it in somewhere, he had to remove the experience Matriarch to get his hands on a more malleable, young, and inexperienced Matriarch,” he puts his arm over Allison’s shoulders mimicking my dad.  “At the time we were both too grief stricken over her death to see his manipulations clearly.”

 

“Clever,” Peter sits down with his arms crossed, “And people call me a murdering psychopath, at least I only killed people who killed my family in cold blood.”

 

“The janitor?” Melissa snipes at him, “Remind me how he had a hand in killing your family again.”

 

Glaring at her Peter huffs and for a second I could swear he’s blushing softly, “I may have had a few control issues as I integrated the Alpha powers, and in my defence I was in a coma for nearly six years, not the best recipe for mental stability.”

 

“Enough,” Dad breaks in, “This isn’t helping.  While I would happily sling Peter into jail for his crimes, I’d also have to do the same to all the Argents, Jackson, and a few others.  So I am willing to pretend that we’re all happy to be at this table to stop future bloodshed and make sure we all make it out of this alive.”

 

“Fine,” Chris sighs, “We’re wandering away from the point.  How to contain Scott until he either comes back or we have to kill him before he kills everyone else.”

 

“He’ll need contact with his Alpha,” Peter points out, “Not huge amounts of it, but enough to reinforce the bond, after that it’s only time that he needs.”

 

“So how do we manage his bonding time?” Dad asks and that should not be something my dad says, it sounds weird coming from him.

 

I sit quietly, only my knees and fingers are moving as I listen to them brainstorm and wait for the inevitable.  And then Mrs McCall looks at Derek, “What kind of grades did you used to get?”

 

“A’s?” Derek frowns, “How is that relevant?”

 

Only Mrs McCall is smiling, “Then you just volunteered to be Scott’s tutor three times a week.  You can come to ours, on the evenings I’m not working, and I’ll referee as you teach my son and help him keep his grades up.  He’s been studying on his own a lot anyway so you only have to sit there, you don’t have to do anything.”

 

Twisting his head around Peter eyes up his nephew, “You know that might work. You’ll be close to Scott, your scent will start to invade his house so he’ll be forced to smell you most of the time, you’ll be in a position of power over him, and you don’t have to do anything.”

 

Scowling Derek thinks it over, “Would it really be that simple?”  He has a point, when does anything in our lives ever go this easily? Especially when it involves Derek and Scott being anywhere close to each other.

 

Snorting dad chuckles, “You try and keep that kid’s butt on a chair when he’s supposed to be learning, at least Stiles wants to learn, Scott just daydreams.”

 

“We’ll try it,” Derek nods, “I can sit there while he studies,” and I remember when Derek was hiding from the law in my bedroom, he used to just sit there when I studied, he’s really calming to be around.

 

“Okay, and,” Dad’s hand squeezes my shoulder, “We should have a weekly update at Melissa’s, ALL of us. I think it’s time we started talking to each other, and we need to address who’s in Derek’s pack and who isn’t.”

 

“What?” Isaac frowns at dad but none of the parents are looking surprised at dad’s little gambit, in fact they look way too relaxed.

 

Smiling gently at Isaac dad explains, “Well, from what facts I’ve gathered from Melissa, Chris, and the two kids, most of your problems could have been solved by just damn well talking to each other and not hiding secrets.” I flinch a bit because I hid a lot from dad, and his hand pats my shoulder gently.  “I spent so long staring at god damn boards of evidence and the relevant pieces where kept from me,” oh god I’m a terrible child, that was me I kept the pieces from him to protect him and he knows anyway.  “But we’ll start small and build up to full disclosure, it won’t be easy, most people at that his table have made some huge mistakes and those mistakes have ended up hurting others, so no more of that and we’ll all work on that, okay?”

 

I’m staring at the table and nod to let him know I’m listening so I’ve no idea what everyone else is doing and then dad asks, “So how do I Melissa and I join the Pack?”

 

Gaping at my dad I’m fairly sure my head Ping-Pongs from side to side as I stare at him and then an equally stunned Derek and back again.  I’m also aware that Chris isn’t getting upset and trying to talk them out of it and that Peter looks like someone slapped him, damn his face is funny right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys work is so ballistic right now I’m bringing stuff home and I still can’t catch up, urgh I’m so far behind on everything right now.


	22. Chapter 22

Allison also joins the Pack, much to Peter’s disgust, he really doesn’t want an Argent in the Pack.  Surprisingly Chris isn’t getting upset, he’s being way too placid, his daughter should be learning to be a hunter not joining the local Pack.

 

Sitting there quietly I watch it all unfold and I can’t believe that not only does my dad know everything about the werewolves and the shit that happened, he’s happily sitting there and discussing some Pack ideas with Derek.

 

“Seriously Derek, a weekly meeting would do the whole group good. Hopefully we won’t need to plan anything big but if anyone spots anything they can bring it to the meetings, and frankly it’ll do the kids good to be able to hang out together and be forced to interact outside of high school,” Dad is currently trying to push for weekly pack meetings at the McCalls’.

 

Derek doesn’t look convinced and Isaac looks a little hopeful, while Peter has put himself in the corner, by the window, and is sitting there with a lacey type of material I recognise as my outer dress.  He’s hand sewing what could be the bottom of it and is doing his best to ignore everything.

 

Whenever Derek or Peter come up with any kind of objection to my dad’s or Mrs McCall’s ideas all three of the parents start to gang up.  Dad is the reasonable voice, calm and logical.  Mrs McCall is more impassioned but she’s clearly doing this because she cares.  And Mr Argent is the scary one pointing out what could go wrong if they don’t go along with all of this.

 

Getting to my feet I pretend to be helpful by gathering up used glasses and getting everyone drinks, I leave Peter until last so I can hover there, all three werewolves will be able to hear me easily enough, “You’re aware you’re all being railroaded into this right?  They’ve been planning this.  They’re too smooth at it.”  And I feel like a complete traitor to my dad, I should be watching his back, but I’ve seen him do this with my mom and Mrs McCall against mine and Scott’s teachers in the past.

 

“It is a little too perfect isn’t it,” Peter calmly keeps sewing.  “It reminds me of a group that have been working on something and how they seize an opportunity.”

 

At the table Derek is wavering on the group meetings and hunching a little again, which probably means one of them is starting to guilt trip him, he’s very easy to guilt trip.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Derek says, “There’ve been a lot of big changes, changes Erika and Boyd don’t know about yet, I don’t want to spring too much on them at once they’ve already been through a lot.”

 

“That’s fine,” Dad leans back seemingly unconcerned, but I know he’s not finished yet, “We’ll give it a couple of weeks and give the weekly thing a bit of a trial run,” which is dad speak for never stopping the meetings once they get started, he’ll sneak it in as a trial and pretend to want feedback.  Okay so I’ve seen him gather feedback before and then use it to make whatever they’re trialling better but he never stops the trial, it just becomes permanent.

 

“Fine,” Nodding Derek falls for the ploy.

 

“Sucker,” Peter murmurs not taking his eyes off of his sewing.

 

Sitting down next to him I lean in a bit and watch as he sews.  It’s mesmerising, rhythmical and all of his stitches are tiny, neat and in perfect alignment with each other.  He doesn’t stab himself with the small, sharp, pointy needle.  He doesn’t tangle up the thread and while it’s slow going he’s also powering through it at the same time.

 

The cloth in his hands is the cream with the brown leaf designs, and the leaves shimmer bronze in the sunlight, it slides through Peter’s fingers so easily and part of me wants to reach out and touch it.  This is going to be part of my dress, my new dress and I’m excited about it and anxious there are other people who don’t know about me near it.

 

“Stiles,” Dad calls my name and I jerk my head up to look at him, “Derek said we could use the showers here, I stopped long enough to grab some clean underwear and meds last night.  Oh and I snagged some of your school books too, so if you want to study you can.”

 

“Yes father,” I nod and move away from Peter.  “May I use your shower please?” I ask Peter and he nods still not taking his eyes off of his work.  “Thank you.”   Getting up I walk towards my dad because taking a shower right now sounds heavenly and I’m suddenly aware of how itchy and dirty my skin feels.

 

“Stiles,” Peter calls out from behind me, “I believe I have some spare toothbrushes in my bathroom sink for everyone, and there are some disposable razors there for the males, because I doubt my nephew has any, I’m sure he just glares his stubble into submission,” while Peter might sound like he’s just had a dig at Derek, because he has, he’s also just warned me that I’m Stella right now.

 

Glancing over at my dad he’s watching me thoughtfully as is Mr Argent and Mrs McCall, and if they’ve spent enough time with each other to work out a werewolf handling plan they may have mentioned me in passing.  Dad is a trained cop who doesn’t act as smart as he actually is.  Mrs McCall has known me for years and knows all my tells.  And Mr Argent?  He’s a scary as fuck hunter who tracks werewolves who know how to hide from him, and he still finds them.

 

Plastering on a smile I bumble over to the bags dad brought, “Thanks Peter, I’ll go grab them before I shower, that’s awesome dude,” I fall back on Stiles and try to shove Stella down as I amble over to Peter’s door with my boxer shorts and socks.

 

In the bathroom I rummage in the cupboard and there really are toothbrushes and razors, I take them back out as Stiles and then go and lock myself in Peter’s bathroom.

 

The click of the lock lets me relax and I slide down the door to land on my butt with a bump. Holy mother of god that was close.  I’m so used to being able to be me here that I just didn’t think to hide Stella, and right now I’m stupidly grateful that all of dad’s plans for us to do pack bonding crap is being held at the McCalls’ and not here, he seems happy to keep Scott away from here, I guess watching Scott go feral and attack might of helped with that.

 

Wrapping my arms around me I breathe in and out as evenly as I can, I need to stay calm, I need to be Stiles, I need to hold it together to shower and dress and be me, the me everyone is so very used to me being.

 

Uwrapping my arms I stand up and strip down.  This time when I stand in Peter’s shower I use his shower gel and frankly ridiculously expensive shampoo, I mean who needs that much natural crap in their shampoo, though the faintest hint of scent it has is nice and it feels good as I scrub my scalp.

 

Getting dressed afterwards is weird, I’m used to sailing out of here as Stella, of wearing clothes that allow the other part of me to feel like me, not stifling myself, and hiding what I am.

 

Stomping out I find Derek working out, Isaac has his nose buried in a book, Chris is talking on the phone, Mrs McCall has apparently taken over Derek’s bathroom, and Allison is brushing her wet hair.  Dad pats me on the shoulder as he passes me to use Peter’s shower and I hug myself because while this is awkward as hell, it’s better than it was.

 

I end up sitting down next to Isaac and working on some of my homework.  Part of me is happy to have a day off from school, to not have to put up with that hell hole, but part of me is panicking because I have a tight schedule to stick to and I’m falling behind, though technically I was in front, so I’m not that far behind, but I could slide further if I’m not careful.

 

Allison joins us and the levels of awkward start climbing, Isaac is really unhappy to have the person who went all crazy and stabby on him nearby.  None of us say anything and if Allison moves too quickly Isaac flinches, so I inch closer to him and put myself between them.  I think I’ve managed it subtly enough until Isaac leans into me and I catch the wince on Allison’s face and the flicker of guilt.

 

Oh god this whole Pack thing is going to be damn complicated.

 

Nervously I start to chatter about the math problem and think out loud, it’s too quiet and I hate that.  Chewing on a pen lid at the same time shouldn’t be possible but I manage it, it’s a skill I’ve learnt to perfect over the years.  By now Isaac’s squished up against my side and his body heat is really nice, the downside is I must trust him more than I realised because I’m having to fight off my Stella side, I just want to cuddle him right now, and yes I could do that as Stiles, but it’s more Stella-y than Stiles-y at the moment.

 

“Lunch,” Peter’s voice breaks into our study moment and plates of sandwiches are handed out.

 

“Thanks,” I tell him with my mouth full of sandwich.

 

“You’re welcome,” his fingers trail through my hair as he passes behind me, “And you got that equation wrong, it’s unbalanced,” I look down to see he’s right and I have to correct it.

 

“Damn it,” I mutter as I put it right.

 

Chuckling Isaac waves the remains of a sandwich in my direction, “Annoying isn’t it, he does it to me all the time.”

 

“That’s because your school work is usually wrong,” Is Peter’s answering volley, “At least with Derek’s tutoring your grades are picking up, who knows perhaps Scotty will listen to him and get his school work up too.”

 

That sobers the mood and Allison is thoughtfully staring at Isaac, “Derek really tutors Isaac?”  And it’s news to me too.

 

“Yes,” Derek is in the middle of showing off doing one armed push ups, he doesn’t break stride and keeps going.  It’s like watching a machine, no one can possibly do what he’s doing so easily and with so many repetitions, I amend that to no one who’s human anyway.

 

“Oh,” Allison nods and goes back to her homework, “Good, Scott’s been struggling with his English, mostly because he won’t read the books.”

 

Of course that’s when Peter glides noiselessly up behind her, “Perhaps because he’s somewhat distracted by the pretty packaging playing kissyface with him when he should be studying.”

 

Stiffening and moving her hand in a way that lets me know there’s something sharp and pointy near it she twists to smile up at him, “Perhaps, and now he can study with Derek, I can’t see them playing kissyface any time soon.”

 

I can see the snarky response sitting on Peter’s face and then he smiles and moves to stand behind me, his hand touches the side of my neck, “True, oh and Stiles all of those are correct, well done,” I try not to let his praise get to me but I do puff up a little and I can’t keep the smile off of my face.  “Hmm, Isaac, well done too, you might want to look at number two a bit more you’re very close.”

 

“Okay,” Isaac nods and turns his attention to number two.

 

Considering our various histories, and the fact that Scott is still fast asleep in Isaac’s bed.  Peter isn’t worried about that he’s said Scott is healing more than just his body right now, and that Scott may sleep more for a while as he regains balance to his life.  Things are ridiculously domestic right now.

 

Dad is working on some paperwork, because of course he brought paperwork.  Mrs McCall has some of her medical magazines and is reading those.  Mr Argent has gardening books.  I’m doing homework with Isaac and Allison. Peter’s still sewing.  Derek’s now sprawled on the couch reading the Hobbit and as I flick my eyes around the room I wonder if this is something we’ll ever really reach as a Pack without being forced into it to save Scott.

 

“Urgh,” Isaac throws his pen down, “I’ve been studying for hours, we need to have a break.”

 

“I agree,” Allison carefully puts her pen down too.

 

Checking my watch I can see we’ve only been at this for about four hours, “Really? ‘Coz we still have time to do at least another subject or two before dinner and then we can get some more studying in before bed,” I point out.

 

“Stiles,” Dad is staring at me, “I should be happy that my kid wants to study that much, but you’re still a teen, go play video games for a few hours, you can study in a little bit.”

 

“He has a point,” Peter adds, “If you get too mentally tired you won’t study as well as you should do, you’ll waste the time going over things and not absorbing them.”

 

Grumbling I follow Isaac and Allison over to the big TV and I let Isaac shove a controller in my hand.  Sitting on the floor, because Derek has the couch I lean back and then startle when a hand touches me, it’s Derek.  I’m not used to Derek touching me but I soon relax and take turns racing the other two at Mario Kart, I win most of the races but then I’m that good.

 

I’d have to say we’re getting on really well, until Isaac puts Call of Duty II on, then things go downhill rapidly.  Isaac and Allison are doing PVP in the Cargo area and he keeps making the mistake of going out in the open so she snipes him every single freaking time.

 

“You know your avatar isn’t a werewolf right?” I point out and he glares at me, “Dude, seriously just try and stay where she can’t shoot you man, try and get up high if  you can, or anywhere with good vantage points, make her come to you.”

 

Coaching him through some more tips I help him get better and then he practically howls when he finally gets to shoot Allison, “I did it, I really did it.”  I don’t mention that she let him win and I give her a nod she returns when he can’t see her.

 

Dad’s phone starts ringing, the same ringtone I programmed it with so he’d always know when work was calling, “Yes,” he answers it and goes quiet before adding, “Thanks for letting me know, anything else happen today?”  Other than a few “Hmms,” he doesn’t say much more and hangs up after a minute.  “Melissa?”

 

“Yes?” She’s been scribbling notes on something for the last ten minutes.

 

“That was one of my deputies, he’s finally left and I’ve got a confirmed boarding of a plane, he’s out of Beacon Hills,” Dad tells her and a weight lifts off of my shoulders, he means that Agent McCall is gone as he’s flying to his new job miles and miles away from her and Scott.

 

“Oh thank god,” her shoulders slump, “Thank you.”

 

“Hey,” Dad gets up and pads over to her, “If I could get that SOB locked up for what he did to you and Scott I would,” she stands up too and I get to see them hug, just like they did when dad first got here to Derek’s apartment.  For the first time in a while I wonder if there is going to be something more than friends between them.  Mrs McCall does go on the odd date now and again. Dad hasn’t looked at anyone ever, he still wears his wedding ring, he’s never mentioned any women to me, not even in passing, as anything other than work or him being judgemental, but he does that to guys too.

 

“I know, and I really wish you could do that, but I’d prefer he just stays out of our lives,” Her hands tighten on him and my stomach swoops, it’s not a good or bad swoop, just a swoop, and I wrap my arms around me as I watch them.  This is a whole new level of interaction for them and I glance over at Chris to see him watching them with something akin to pain in his eyes, the same look dad would get just after we lost mom.

 

A touch on my shoulder gets my attention and then Derek’s moving to put his arm around me.  And this is new for us too.  The only times I’ve been this physically close to Derek before involved things like swimming pools and being paralysed on floors.  Leaning into him I take what he’s offering and try not to think about what would happen if dad and Mrs McCall started dating, or how if it became permanent that we’d have to move in together.  I’d be in a house with Scott, with Mrs McCall, and yeah that would be good but I’d have to hide Stella a lot better than I have been.

 

Holy mother of god, the only place I’d be safe would be here, even my bedroom wouldn’t be safe anymore.

 

And then I want to kick myself because if dad did hook up with Mrs McCall he’d be happy and wouldn’t ever be lonely, and I love Mrs McCall enough to want her to be happy too.  It would also mean when I leave Beacon Hills I wouldn’t have to worry about his diet, she’d police it way better than I could.

 

“I have the car angle covered,” Mr Argent is saying and I’ve missed something.  “Go, you have things to do.”

 

“Thanks Chris,” Dad nods gratefully at him, “I appreciate it, I have work tomorrow and Stiles has school.”  Letting Mrs McCall go he motions a hand to me, “Come on Stiles, let’s go home kiddo.  We’ll grab some take out on the way home, and no don’t hassle me about my diet, I’ll eat salad tomorrow, I promise.”

 

Sticking to me like glue as I get up, Derek hugs me close to him and murmurs, “Pack, you’ll always be Pack,” into my ear.  It helps a bit as does Isaac coming to hug me too, and then Peter’s there.  I’m sandwich between them and I hold onto how they’ve accepted me as me, how they don’t care if I’m Stiles or Stella.  It’s such a simple thing, but it means a lot to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so sorry for not updating sooner, and yeah no Stilinski family feels, that’s next chapter. Work is still manic but I’m catching up (slowly), I don’t have time to write but I’m shoehorning it in (it helps keep me sane). I should be able to update on Sunday, and hopefully things should settle down now.


	23. Chapter 23

Carrying in the big bag of food I keep up a steady chatter of nonsense about the take out and how the customers did things that were funny. Dad nods and turns on the lights dumping the duffle bags on the kitchen table before fishing out some forks for us.

 

I’m a little hyper right now.

 

In fact I’m really nervous right now too.

 

Things have been going great with dad.  He knows about werewolves and I’m kinda mad at Scott for telling him.  It should have been my decision to make. I get that Scott isn’t the most stable cookie at the moment and I know I’m a terrible son, because I’m not just a son, I’m a daughter too, but I still should have been the one to tell my dad. Me. Not Scott.

 

Settling in the living room next to dad I shut up when he flicks on the TV and we watch one of his favourite shows and critique everything.  Laughing at something I say he nods and my heart clenches, because I made him laugh, and then he smiles at me and even reaches out to pat my shoulder.

 

Oh god I know this won’t last, I know I’m going to screw this up somehow but this is as close to good that we’ve been for so long, I don’t want it to end.

 

Volunteering to clear up I take out the last few scraps of food and shove most of it in the trash, I’m not giving dad an excuse to eat any of this crap.  Washing up the forks I put them away and then pad back into the living room.  He pats the seat beside him and I sit back down.

 

Relaxing as we watch the next episode I can’t believe how much like normal this feels like, I’ve missed this.  Maybe dad knowing about werewolves is a good thing, maybe we can come back from this, maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

 

When the credits roll dad clicks the TV off and stretches.  I might not want this to end but I do have homework to do.  His hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes softly.  “Stiles?”

 

“Yeah dad?”

 

“Can we talk please?” His voice is soft and I glance over to him as my stomach drops, “I promise to do my best to actually listen to you for once.  I know I’ve been screwing up recently, and I’ve got no one to blame but me for that, but we really do need to talk, face to face.”

 

He’s so serious and I swallow nervously before nodding, oh god I don’t want to do this and I wrap my arms around my stomach bracing for the worst.  “Thank you Stiles.  Thank you for giving me another chance,” I wasn’t expecting him to say that so I nod to cover my confusion and stare down at the floor.

 

“Okay,” His hand is still on my shoulder and it’s warm, he doesn’t move it, instead he does another of those mini squeezes.  “I want to apologise to you first, I’ve been so caught up in other stuff going on that I took my eyes off the most important person in my life.  That’s you Stiles. I let myself get distracted, and yeah some of it was big stuff, but I still should have taken time out be with you, to be your father instead of a distant idiot.”

 

“Dad, I,” I have no idea what to say. I know his job is important, I’ve always known, I spent so much time in the office with him when mom died I got to see lots of stuff I probably shouldn’t, but I did get to see that people need him and the cops, that there are times he has to just be the Sheriff.

 

The hand on my shoulder moves and I freeze as it slips around me and dad gets closer, I’m stunned when he ends up hugging me with that arm, “Stiles, you are literally the most important part of my life, and I took you for granted.  I keep thinking you’re the same hyperactive little kid you were at age six, but you’re not, you’re a hyperactive teen, and while you’re not quite an adult, yet, you’ve been making some big adult decisions recently, and you’ve been handling things most adults couldn’t.  I don’t want my kid to grow up, but damn it you are, and I’m so proud of you right now.”

 

Proud?

 

He’s proud of me?

 

I have to look up at him and it’s all there on his face, he really is proud of me, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to see it kiddo,” he says and I think there are actual tears in his eyes.

 

“Dad, it’s okay,” I fling myself at him and bury my face in his neck like I used to when I was a little kid.  My hands grip his shoulders as his other arm snakes around me and I cling to him, “It’s okay daddy, really.”

 

“No, it really isn’t,” he murmurs, “I’ve messed this whole thing up, I’m going to make it up to you Stiles, I’m going to prove to you that you can trust me, that I’ll love you no matter what.  I care that you run around with werewolves, but only because you won’t heal like they do.  I’ll always care and I want you know that I’m here, I’m always going to be here.”

 

“Me too,” I tell him and grip him harder, “Always dad, love you so much.”  Oh god I think I’m starting to cry.

 

“Love you too Stiles, love you too,” One of his hands rubs a circle on my back and I don’t ever want to move.  I never thought I could have my dad again, I thought I’d screwed it up too badly.

 

Since he’s apologised to me, and he didn’t need to, because this is all my fault, I blurt out, “I’m sorry dad, I’m sorry I lied to you, that I messed up and got you fired.  I know I screwed up, I should have told you about the werewolves, I should have been the one to tell you,” I leave the ‘not Scott’ out.

 

Snorting he pats me, “Yeah, short of Scott wolfing out in the middle of his living room I probably wouldn’t have believed you, that was pretty compelling evidence at the time.  I’m sorry Stiles, I should have trusted you more.”

 

“Scott wolfed out in front of you?” I’m shocked, even seeing him attack me at the Pack’s table I’m stunned, “He didn’t hurt you did he?” Because bro or not I will hunt him down and hurt him if he touched my dad.

 

“No, just got grumpy and his face did that wolfy thing, the glowing eyes were a good touch though,” Dad’s more amused than anything.  “I have to admit I was furious with you when I found out,” I flinch and dad’s arms tighten on me, “No Stiles, please, hear me out. I love you, and I had the whole werewolf thing thrown in my face, then Scott spilled everything.  My knee jerk reaction was to pack up and move you somewhere safe, except I can read between the lines and Jesus, Stiles, you solved the whole Hale fire arson on your own.

 

“You not only solved it, you shoved it in Chris Argent’s face, and somehow turned up in time to help stop Peter Hale from slaughtering everyone,” He pauses, “By the way did you really set the man on fire?”

 

“Err, kind of?” I hedge, “I mean, I mixed up the cocktails and I threw the first one, but Peter caught it, it was Allison who broke the container with an arrow.  I try not to think about it too much, and Peter’s way less of a homicidal insane dick now,” to the point that I can’t believe it’s the same man.  “He’s way more obsessed with sewing now, and making digs at Derek, and being sassy and stuff.”

 

“Hmm, well I can see why he’d want revenge on the people that murdered his family, but I don’t trust him, he should have come to me. I nearly had all the pieces and frankly I’d have loved to have nailed Kate Argent for the fire,” Dad sighs, “I hate it when I can’t do my job properly, Chris is another prime example, I like the guy, but damn it he is so anti werewolf I wish I could make him go to Haters Anonymous or something.”

 

Chuckling I nod, “Yeah, hunters are really anti anything human,” Mrs Argent was yet another prime example.  Though if Chris is really anti werewolf, why is he letting Allison join the Pack?  Or more accurately pushing Derek into accepting her into the Pack.

 

“Yeah, if they actually talked to, or worked with Packs then things like the crap from Jackson being Bitten wouldn’t have happened,” He says.  “Can you imagine if Chris had worked with you guys?  You had Jackson and Matt trapped at the rave, which was illegal by the way, and all those other people wouldn’t have died, I wouldn’t have had to bury my deputies, you wouldn’t have ended up paralysed on the floor.  And Gerard wouldn’t have almost won,” his arms tighten on me again, “Damn, Stiles, that bastard could have killed you when he kidnaped you, he could have had Jackson kill you, he could have done anything to you.” He’s shaking now, “God, I can’t believe how close I came to losing you forever, and I can’t lose you Stiles, I can’t, I just can’t.”

 

His face is buried in my neck now and it’s getting damp, “You didn’t lose me dad, you didn’t. Daddy I’m right here. I’m safe, I’m okay, I’m good.”

 

Taking a deep shuddering breath he nods, “I know, but it was too close, way too close.  And it’s why I’m not mad at you for not telling me.  It took me a while and a few stray words from Allison and Scott, but I know now you were just trying to protect me, and to keep me away from the supernatural stuff.  So I think the pair of us are going to do our best to not get into fights we can’t win, and to watch each other’s backs, okay?”

 

No, there’s no way he’s getting close enough to even get into a fight but I nod anyway, “Okay.”

 

“Good.  Now we really should talk about the time you were in Jungle,” He pulls back so he can look at me.  “I know you went there because you were following the Kanima, but the thing I really want to talk about is how I shut you down, how I pushed you away outside,” I blank at what he’s talking about.  “You’re a teen now, you’re being hit by hormones, and all your peers, all the programs on TV, they go on and on about things like sex,” Oh god, please not the talk, I’m even sure how relevant the talk would be to me, I mean I’m a boy, but I’m also a girl, and yeah my body is male, and dad’s talking again.  “And how it’s ‘normal’ to only want one thing, that there’s only one way to be you, and they’re wrong.  You’ve been hanging out with Danny a lot, you went bowling with him, so you know there’s nothing wrong with Danny, everyone likes Danny, and they like him because he’s Danny, him being gay, it’s just a facet of him being him.  It doesn’t make him better or worse, just him, okay?”

 

I have no idea where this is going and I’m terrified that dad has guessed my gender is more fluid than the average person.

 

“So when I shut you down saying that you couldn’t be gay because of how you dressed, that was me being a dumbass, a bad human being and a terrible parent.  If you ever need to tell me anything, anything at all, I should listen, I shouldn’t push you away, and if I ever do that to you again, you call me on it.  I’m the adult, I work in law enforcement, I’ve seen how that shit ends, and it’s never happening to us.” I get pulled back into a hug.  “I don’t care if you like, girls, boys, both, neither, or aliens from the plant Zorg, if that’s who you love, that’s who you love.”

 

“Dad,” I cling a bit harder, this is the perfect moment to tell him I like both boys and girls but I can’t get the words out.  I want to tell him but I just can’t, I can’t and I shake in his arms as I’m torn between talking and not talking.

 

“Love you Stiles,” He holds me close, “Love you so much.”

 

“Love you too dad,” I murmur and hold him as tightly as I can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have some Stilinski family feels. You’ll notice it doesn’t clear up ALL of the issues…


	24. Chapter 24

Exhausted I nod to my dad and slip into my room.  It’s a million times better between us already, there’s a hole being filled in my heart and I half-heartedly pull on my pyjamas and face plant on my bed.

 

I’m too tired to even crawl under the sheets, and start to drift off on top of them, not even bothering to turn off the light, when there’s a tapping noise on my window.  Lifting my head up I blink at the window to see two glow in the dark blue dots staring back.

 

Peter.

 

It has to be Peter.

 

Worried that something’s already gone wrong in the short time since I was there, I drag myself off of the bed and hurry to let him in.  He slides through the window, gracefully, damn werewolves, and stands up in a pair of shorts and t-shirt.

 

Any questions I was going to ask slink off to be replaced by shock.  The shorts are bright orange with florescent yellow ducks on them, they come down to his knees and show off his hairy legs.  The t-shirt is grey and has a circle on it, a circle labelled ‘Circle of Trust’, and then a blob to one side that used to be labelled ‘You’, but is now crossed out re-labelled ‘Me’.

 

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” He says and kicks off a pair of loafers, “But I saw your light was on, and I hoped you were still awake.”

 

“I was just falling asleep,” I mutter and watch as he pulls the covers off of my bed and then he climbs in.

 

“Perfect timing then. Come along Stiles Stella, you have school tomorrow,” He rolls over and leaves me space on the bed, it will mean I’ll be forced to big spoon him, and I blink at him stupidly.  “It’s not that big a deal Stiles, you don’t smell right, and none of us slept well last night.  I was too busy cleaning up the blood and being domestic to sleep.”  He snuggles into my bed and pulls the covers up, “I didn’t even get a chance to take a nap with you this weekend either,” and he actually pouts at that.

 

I’m really too tired to deal with this right now.  Crawling into bed behind Peter I do spoon him, the heat radiating off of him soon has me drifting off and the sound of his breathing soothes me.  The last conscious thought I have is full of contentment, and I’m fairly sure it’s from him.

 

ooOOooOOooOOoo

 

Waking up with Peter in my arms should be awkward.  The erection pressing into his butt is a bit humiliating, but Peter ignores it, so I can ignore it too, and all he does is flick my ear before diving out of my window with a wink.

 

And then dad is knocking on my door and asking if I want pancakes for breakfast.

 

Breakfast is awkward.  Things are better but there are a lot of pauses and he ends the whole thing with a giant hug and a, “I love you Stiles, you need anything, anything at al,l you let me know, okay?”

 

“Yeah dad, thanks, and I love you too,” I hug him back and I really don’t want to let him go.

 

Unshockingly school is school.  Nothings really changed.  Erika hangs onto me and doesn’t let go, I’m like an accessory to her.  At lunch Danny joins the four of us and under the table Boyd and Isaac have wrapped their legs around each of mine.  And at practice Coach is brutal.

 

Driving home dad texts me to not cook, he’s going to do something instead, which leaves me free to do homework.  I’m deep in my math homework when the front door opens and closes and dad yells up, “I’m home Stiles, come on down between assignments, remember I’m cooking!”

 

“Okay dad, I’ve just got a few more problems to solve and then I’ll be down,” I yell back.

 

“Good, and I love you kiddo!” Is hollered at me.

 

“Love you too dad,” I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face and race through the last few questions, I double check my answers to be on the safe side and then grab a book I can read if things get too awkward.

 

Padding down the stairs I can hear the radio is on softly.  Going to the kitchen I have to make myself not put my arms around my stomach and I try to act calm as I walk in.  I don’t want to screw things up and that’s when I see them.

 

Dad and Mrs McCall are slow dancing, just like they do on TV.  There’s plenty of space between them.  Except the way they’re gazing at each other is how dad would look at mom, but it’s different too, and he looks relaxed too.

 

Stunned I stand there and stare.

 

Dad notices me and nods, “Hey Stiles, how’s the homework coming along?”  He doesn’t pull away from Mrs McCall and she doesn’t do anything accept turn her head and greet me.

 

Unsure of how to handle this, I shrug and pretend everything is okay, “Good, the math stuff is easy at the moment, I was able to power through them without any problems.”

 

“Good,” and something buzzes in the background, “I’m glad you’re so on top of your school work Stiles, but remember to have fun too okay,” he lets go off Mrs McCall to go to the stove and pulls something out.  “Melissa made some pie for us. I thought it could go with the steak and potatoes.”

 

I really want to point out that pie and steak are not good for him, “Say what you mean,” Melissa is smiling at him, “You want to know if cutting out all of the bad stuff makes it taste okay or if I destroyed another one.”

 

“Well Mel, that last one was so amazing you destroyed the trash can when you dropped it in there, totally dented the bottom,” Dad is laughing at her, “And I have no idea how this fake steak is supposed to taste good, but I’m willing to give it a go.”

 

Oh, he’s not having actual steak and pie.

 

Hovering in the doorway I try to process what the fuck is going on when Mrs McCall starts getting stuff to set the table with, it’s like she lives here or something.  I flit to one side when she passes me to go the dining room.

 

Wrapping my arms around myself I just stand there and I have no idea what to say or do.  Dad is telling Mrs McCall something that happened today, and then he says, “You remember Mrs Cadden, right Stiles?” I nod obediently and I do remember the crotchety lady that smelt funny, she’s always a pain in the ass to everyone, “Well today she pulled one of her stunts in the mall and…” He goes on to describe this over the top story and if it wasn’t dad I’d think they were making it up, “So the mall is closed while they finish sweeping up the dead fish, and we have the whole thing on CCTV and she’s still trying to say she was never there, even though we arrested her there and drove her to the station.”

 

“Oh I can’t top that one,” Mrs McCall laughs, “I had a very nice quiet shift, I like those, it means no one dies,” she leans into dad’s back like she’s done it a thousand times before, “But I’d have loved to have seen Mrs Cadden’s face when you arrested her.”

 

“I was pretty funny,” Dad chuckles and his face lights up, I’ve not seen that in a long time.  “Stiles you’ve washed up right?”

 

“Yes, sir,” I nod and go to sit at the table with Mrs McCall.

 

When the food is placed in front of me I force myself to eat the truly horrible fake steak, it’s disgusting, I’ve no idea what it’s made of but it should be burned and buried.  Dad screws his face up, “Damn it, I was hoping this one would be the one.”

 

“Nope,” Mrs McCall puts her fork down, “Another one bites the dust Jon, just give up.  There are plenty of healthy things out there to eat that don’t have to mimic steak,” her hand touches dad’s arm and he puts down his knife to take her hand in his.

 

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” He agrees with her and I feel invisible at the table, I valiantly take another bite of the ‘steak’ and chew.  It’s so horrible I don’t have words to describe it.  I swallow it and move onto the vegetables instead, if dad and Mrs McCall can get away with not eating it I can too.

 

“So Stiles,” Mrs McCall says and both of them turn to look at me, “How was your day today?”

 

“It was okay,” I stuff a fork full of carrots in my mouth, if I’m eating I can’t be expected to answer.

 

Dad frowns and I stare determinedly at my plate, “Did something happen today?” He asks softly.  “Did Scott hurt you?”

 

“No,” I tell them, “I barely saw Scott today, I was with Erika, Isaac, Boyd and Danny most of the day.  It was just school, nothing happens in school,” both of them relax so I must have said the same thing.

 

“Okay,” Mrs McCall smiles at me, “That’s good, nothing bad happening is good.  I hope you had fun at school, even a little.”

 

They’re back to looking at me and seem hopeful so I nod, “Yeah, a little.”  They’re relieved and I must have done good because they both smile, maybe I should elaborate a little, “Um, Boyd normally doesn’t say a lot but…” I tell them about his insightful moment with one of the freshmen and how right he was when the kid ended up skidding across the canteen, “And I guess that’s a good reason why you don’t put olive oil on the floor.”

 

Chuckling dad shakes his head, “Damn that was a stupid prank, that kid got lucky, he could have seriously hurt himself, glad he got away with it.”

 

“Please tell me you have it on your phone?” Mrs McCall asks and holds her hand out.

 

“No,” I hunch in a bit, god should I have videoed it? “It happened so fast and I just didn’t think…”

 

“Oh, okay,” She shrugs it off and leans forward, “At least describe his face as he skidded past you.”

 

“Mel,” Dad pokes her gently in the shoulder, “You’re a nurse, you should know better.”

 

Grinning impishly at him she laughs, “But Jon, you can’t tell me you don’t want to know what he looked like?”

 

Snorting dad gets up and presses a kiss to her forehead, “Uh-huh, but I’m the Sheriff, I’m supposed to be concerned with the public’s safety,” he wanders out as I do describe the boy’s face to Mrs McCall and she laughs most of the way through.  And then dad is back with three slices of apple pie.  Sitting back down he picks up a spoon and prods the pie with the spoon, “Well here goes nothing,” he takes a small chunk of pie and eats it.  His face instantly screws up and he spits it back out, “Oh, that’s even worse than the steak.  Jesus, Mel, what did you put in it?”

 

“It can’t be that bad,” she protests and tries a bit too, her face copies his and she spits it out too.  “Oh god, Jon, I’m so sorry, I followed the recipe, how did it end up that bad?”

 

I don’t get a chance to try any, dad whips the bowl away from me, “That one is going straight in the trash. I guess I’ll have an apple or something, I’ll get you two some ice cream.”

 

“I really thought I’d cracked it,” Mrs McCall says and adds, “I think I’m going to give up too, maybe I can find some heart healthy recipes for fruit or something.”

 

“Yep, before you kill us all with pie,” Dad says and jerks his head towards the living room, “Go get comfy you two, I just have to dispose of this, this, I have no idea what to call this,” he laughs when Mrs McCall pokes her tongue out at him.

 

Following Mrs McCall into the living room I’m going to sit on one of the armchairs when she pats the couch next to her.  Dad isn’t here so that must be for me, I sidle over and sit down gingerly.  Groaning she leans back into the couch, “God, today might have been quiet but it was a long day.”

 

“It usually is,” Dad sails in with two bowls and an apple.  It’s the vanilla ice cream that was on sale the other day.  And he sits down on the other side of me before slinging an arm over my shoulders.

 

We settle down to watch some TV, Mrs McCall finishes her ice cream as I pick at mine, and then she links her arm in mine and I sit there between them a bit awkwardly.  She only stays for another hour and both of them try to draw me into conversation but I’m not sure what to say or do and they don’t push me.

 

Dad hugs her goodbye and while they don’t kiss I’ve seen enough romance on TV to know they want to.  He makes her promise to text him when she gets home and I wave telling her to drive carefully.  He even walks over to watch her drive off and when he sighs I know she’s out of sight.

 

I have no idea how to even approach this and I scuff my foot, “Um, you and Mrs McCall are kinda close,” is the best I can come up with.

 

“Yeah we are. We know we don’t a lot of time left, and it’s going to hurt like hell later,” he says and he looks so sad, “Guess we finally opened our eyes and noticed each other,” he rubs his wedding ring, “After Claudia,” he pauses.  “After your mom died, I really didn’t think I’d find anyone.  How could I?  Your mom, she was so, so,” he waves his hands, “God she was amazing.  And Melissa is great, but she’s not Claudia, never could be, and yet she’s amazing in all these different ways.”

 

“Are you gonna get married?” I ask quietly.  I know dad is very big on committing to things he cares about, and marriage is kind of a big commitment to someone you love.

 

“No,” He shakes his head, “And we’ve talked a lot of things over, we know this is about as far as we’re going to go,” He walks over to me and I get pulled into a hug.  “We just can’t see this lasting.  With hindsight we should have kicked Scott’s ass months ago, maybe then we’d have a chance of salvaging a family out of this, but we didn’t, and neither of us is willing to risk you getting hurt, so at some point we’ll walk away from this, and we’ll just be friends.”

 

“Dad,” I hug him back not wanting to hear how defeated he sounds.

 

“Hey,” He rubs my shoulder, “It’s okay Stiles, it’s going to be okay.”

 

It’s not but I let him lie to me and I nod pretending to go along with it.

 

Later I lay in bed fidgeting and staring at the ceiling.  The tap on my window has me glancing across to see glowing blue eyes.  Peter’s here again.  Letting him in I stare at his new ensemble of bright green shorts with palm trees on them and this garish yellow, orange, pink t-shirt.

 

“You know those clothes are horrible right?” I point out, “Even I wouldn’t wear them.”

 

“Yes,” he ambles over to my bed and climbs in, “I picked them for their disgusting, eye ball gouging horribleness.   Now are we going to sleep or not?”  He settles in and his eyes close, “And are you going to tell me why you smell so upset?”

 

“Dad and Mrs McCall are kinda dating, but they’re not going to go any further because they think it won’t last,” I have no idea why I’m telling him this, “And I haven’t see dad smile like that since mom died, and I don’t know what to think or feel about any of it.”

 

Sitting up in bed Peter pets the space next to him and I slink over to him and let him pull the covers over me as I lay down.  “Stiles, you’ve been through a lot recently.  You’re learning about yourself.  Who you are.  Who you’re not.  You lost your mother when you were young, you literally had to watch her die in front of you.  I’m a grown adult and that drove me insane.  You’re allowed to be confused.

 

“I only had to deal with being male and a werewolf, I had family, help, Pack, when I hit adolescence.  I wasn’t thrown into the deep end, I didn’t have to face death, and murders, and all the bad things you have,” I’m not sure what his point is but his voice is soothing and I let my head rest on his shoulder.  “Give yourself a break Stiles, give yourself a chance to sort things out in your head.  Who knows maybe Scott will spring back to his normal blandly moral self, maybe then your dad and his mom get that chance to get happy together, or maybe they still walk away.  It’s not on you to solve this,” he says as his arms winds around me.

 

“I just want my dad to be happy,” I mutter into Peter’s shoulder.

 

“And he wants you to be happy,” Peter counters, “Now go to sleep, you have school, tomorrow is another day, and who knows what tomorrow brings.”

 

He wasn’t particularly helpful, but I do as I’m told and close my eyes, the thoughts in my head stop chasing each other and I do fall asleep on Peter.


	25. Chapter 25

Waking up on Saturday morning I can’t help smiling to myself.  Erika’s hair is stuck to my face, and partly in my mouth, and I don’t care.  Dad had the night shift for a few nights and to make up for not being there for me he asked me if I wanted to do a sleep over at Derek’s on those nights.  The upshot of that is Erika and Boyd are also joining our sleep over and the core Pack is here curled up in the living room, together, along with Danny.  Well Peter and Derek are in their beds but it still counts.

 

Danny keeps hanging out with us at lunch and has taken to talking to Boyd and Isaac between classes, and then he found out we were staying over and hadn’t invited him.  I’ve never seen Danny that down and depressed before.  He sat by himself one lunch and didn’t talk to me for a whole day.

 

That used to be me. 

 

That lonely kid that everyone ignored used to be me, and I crumpled so quickly and then begged Derek to let Danny join in.  I’m not completely happy that he’s here and stopping me from being Stella, but he was smiling and chatting and laughed when Erika kicked his ass at video games, she impressed him with her skills and he wants a rematch.

 

The three boys are on one side of the main room, Erika and I are in the middle, which means the couch is dividing the two groups.  Yawning I stretch and Erika wiggles in my arms and then cuddles closer.  It’s different sleeping with Erika, she’s curved differently, she smells different, and her hair is a menace and keeps trying to attach itself to me.

 

The weirdest thing about this whole sleep over is the fact that Danny didn’t even blink when he was shoved over with the guys and Peter separated me and Erika from them.

 

Snuffling Erika starts to wake up and when her eyes open up they look ridiculously cute and I want to go aw but I know she’d rip my balls off with her talons.  “Morning,” she murmurs quietly and snuggles into me.  “God they didn’t do it justice, sleeping with you is amazing,” she slurs her words slightly, “My other side didn’t try and do anything, we just co-existed effortlessly.  How do I go about getting my own Stiles Stella?”

 

“I think I’m unique, they broke the mould when I was born,” I joke just as quietly back, but damn werewolf hearing means Isaac chuckles anyway.

 

He must say something and Erika laughs into my shoulder, “Yeah, I know, you have a point Isaac.”

 

A door clicks open and Peter pads out in an extra horrible pair of shorts and t-shirt.  I’ve stated in the past that blue and orange can go together but not the way those things are.  Instead of stripes there are blocks of varying shades of blue and orange all competing to see which one of them will clash the most with the others.  Coming over to us he peers down and asks, “Omelettes?”  He gets a soft chorus of yeses and then Danny’s waking up too.  “Did you sleep well Daniel?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Good. I’m making omelettes, then we can all fight over the showers, and are you still planning to come shopping with us?  Isaac needs a few things and believe even my nephew is going to buy something not in black or grey,” Peter might be smiling benevolently but I know he’s not too happy with Danny invading this space.

 

“Yes sir, if that’s still okay,” Danny answers him.

 

“Of course it is Daniel, it’s nice to see the kids making friends,” he gives another fake smile.  “Now give me a little bit of time and I’ll have your breakfasts ready.”

 

By the time the plates are on the dining room table we’re all up.  In the case of Derek, also dressed and being Derek like, which is moody and withdrawn.  Other than a flicker of amusement when he first saw him Danny hasn’t mentioned the ‘Miguel’ incident once.

 

There really are a few verbal fights over the bathrooms so both Boyd and I slink off while Peter, Erika and Isaac argue.  I lock myself in Peter’s bathroom and enjoy using his products, seriously this stuff is amazing, if over the top, it’s something I’d never buy but I could get used to using it.

 

Dressing myself as Stiles I amble out and play video games with Boyd while we wait.  Derek sits next to me and reads as he slings an arm around me, I manoeuvre so I can press against his side and still play at the same time.  Since the first time I met him in the woods after Scott was Bitten Derek’s not been Mr Cuddly, so while I’m surprised at the level of snuggles going on I’m enjoying them too, I’m a fairly tactile person, I like being touched.

 

Once we’re all ready to go, we pile into Derek’s soccer mom car and he drives us to the mall.  Then we spilt up.  Derek takes the guys and I’m left with Erika and Peter who drag me into a big good will shop just outside.

 

There aren’t a huge number of people in there and I get to see the two werewolves come to life and prowl the numerous stands and rails as they hunt down bargains. They show each other potential items and confer over the suitability.  Most things are put back but occasionally something makes it to the keep pile and Peter promises to alter a few things for Erika.

 

“Ah, now this is perfect,” Peter holds up a top and long skirt, “Stiles can I borrow you please?” I wander over and see the lavender set up close.  He lowers his voice, “Is this sort of thing something you’d wear Stella?”

 

Eyeing it up more closely I can see it’s too big for me, but the material looks soft and it’s such a simple shape, well actually more of no shape.  The skirt itself flares out the way I like it and it would probably sit just above my ankles, “Yes Peter,” I reply, “That is something I would wear, if it was in the right size, I don’t suppose this shop has the required size?  Does it?”

 

“Unfortunately my dear, it does not,” He frowns, “But it does give me some ideas. The shape is fairly unflattering, and as beautiful as you are, we’d need to alter a few things first.  I can’t wait for my sewing room, I’ll be able to use a proper sewing machine, I’d have better light, and the things I’m going to make for you Stella.”

 

“Thank you Peter,” I am ridiculously grateful to him, “Though I’m not sure how I’m supposed to repay you for this creative kindness you’ve shown me.”  I’m a little worried he’s going to try and take over and expect me to help or something.

 

“Oh there’s no repayment needed Stella, just wear the things I make and grace the world with your amazing presence, all wrapped up in my stunning creations and good taste,” his lips quirk at that and then Erika is strutting over with a mesh top that hides nothing, it’s nothing I’d ever feel right wearing as Stella but then this is Erika and she’s look fantastic in sack cloth and ashes.

 

By the time we stagger out of the shop we only have a few bags, but they hold fantastic items and I saw how much the sales assistant rang up, it wasn’t that much.  I also noticed a few nice plaid shirts, and strangely I didn’t manage to get anywhere near them, Peter was always in my way.

 

Finding the guys isn’t that hard.  Remembering to be Stiles is harder, for a short moment I got to be Stella again, it’s freeing to just be me, whatever facet of me is around at any point and not have to worry.

 

We explore the whole mall and while we don’t buy that much, we have a great time, we hang out, we joke, and it’s not often I get to see Danny laugh out loud like that.  He even joins in the hugging of me, that should be weird but it really isn’t.

 

By the time we have to go back to the school for lacrosse my sides ache with laughing so much, and my jaw aches from smiling so much.  Today has been awesome and I get ready in the locker room when Coach drags me into this office.

 

“Bilinski,” he sits on the edge of his desk and he’s smiling, which is weird, he never smiles at me.  “We’re having issues with McCall and Jackson as co-captains of the team.”

 

We are?  Other than the fact they aren’t fulfilling any team captain duties and never play because they want to rule the field I wasn’t aware of any other problems.  “Err?  We are?”

 

“Yep, and, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he crosses his arms, “Kid I was wrong about you.  You started out on the bench and frankly you’re still the spazzy, clumsy, uncoordinated boy from last year, but at the same time, you’re more than you used to be.  Hell your plays are good and well thought out, you can eye up the other team and find their weaknesses quickly, the guys are listening to you, we’re winning, no, we’re slaughtering the opposition.  So after tonight, if you can keep up this level of skill, I’ll make you team captain,” he does some kind of jazz hands and points at me.

 

“Team captain?” I must have misheard him somehow.

 

His grin gets extra crazy, “Yep, that’s what I said Bilinski, you Team Captain of the winning Lacrosse team of Beacon Hills. You’d rule this school, you’d be numero uno, the big dude on campus, even though this isn’t a campus…”

 

“No,” I blurt it out, “I don’t wanna be team captain,” oh god it’s hard enough to hide who I am right now, yes dad would be proud of me, but I can do without the exposure.

 

“Really?” Coach frowns confused, “Most guys jump at the chance.”

 

“I’m really not most guys,” I admit ruefully and ask, “If you really don’t want the current captains, why don’t you pick Danny? He’s already taking up their slack and doing the work, plus everyone likes Danny.  Even the other teams like Danny.”

 

“That’s true,” he nods and then stares at me strangely, “You turning this down wouldn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been acting not like you would it?  Because to be honest I keep thinking you’re not there, you’re just so damn quiet lately.  And frankly it’s like the universe turned itself inside out, it’s not natural to have you like a robo-Bilinski, it’s freaking me out.”

 

“I’m just not up to being captain right now,” Is all I tell him, “And Danny’s better captain material anyway, he’s way more focused that me, I’d just end up rambling about male circumcision or something.”

 

“I guess,” Coach nods, “It was a good essay though, I looked up some of the facts, I really didn’t know that about the subject,” he stands up. “Well good talk Bilinski, I’ll tell the team the happy news about Danny after the game, until then don’t say a word,” he wags his finger at me and I pretend to zip my mouth.

 

Stepping out of Coach’s office I’m adjusting my pads when I notice Jackson standing there with his head cocked to one side, he’s staring at me so I walk over to my locker and ignore him.  And he calls us freaks.

 

Tonight I don’t get off the bench because Jackson actually behaves himself and doesn’t get kicked off the field by Coach.  I get to yell out plays and Coach comes over to talk through some of the oppositions moves.  Together we come up with tactics and strategize how to bulldoze over their weakness and shockingly I do learn some things from him.  The man is an idiot, overbearing, loud, rude, and wouldn’t know nurturing if it fell on him, but he’s the coach for a reason and he does know his stuff.

 

Scott spends the game on the bench and from the cut of his shoulders he’s sulking.  I just put it all out of my mind and jump up and down like a mad man when we win.  Cheering I leap about and then coach is slapping me on the back as we watch the team do a huge hug on the field, even Jackson.

 

The whole team is jubilant and the atmosphere is loud and the guys are ready for a party.  I’m even smiling at them and I’m kind of going to a party too, I’m going to Derek’s again, and tonight Erika and I are having a girls sleep over.  I almost can’t wait.

 

And then Coach tells the team Danny’s the new captain.  It goes silent for a few second and then the guy gets mobbed by the team, everyone likes Danny.  Shaking my head at their exuberance I look up and find Scott standing on his own, glaring at me, he’s angry, and I can see his claws have started to grow even as his glowing amber eyes hold mine.

 

That can’t be good.

 

Luckily I have two werewolves in here to protect me if need be.  Only it’s Jackson who moves and he’s suddenly between me and Scott, his back is to me and he’s facing Scott down.  Shaking himself Scott grabs his bag and stalks off out of the locker room while Jackson turns towards Danny.  A Danny who’s standing there awkwardly, “Jackson…”

 

“Danny,” the famous Jackson smirk is fixed in place like magic, “Congratulations on being captain,” and then Jackson hugs Danny. I get to see Danny stiffen for a heartbeat before he hugs back.

 

“Thanks Jackson,” Danny’s hands fist the material of Jackson’s t-shirt.  “That means a lot coming from you.”

 

“Well it should, it’s me saying it,” Trust Jackson to be a jerk to Danny during his big moment, “Which means it’s a damn good thing,” and somehow the bastard manages to not ruin the moment.

 

Extracting myself from the locker room I peer down the hall to see Derek conspicuously lounging against a wall.  Waving I meander down to him and grin up at him, “So Danny just got made Team Captain.”

 

Nodding once Derek says, “Well that explains the thunderous expression on Scott’s face, he’s gone to find Allison.  Are you ready to go?”

 

“Yeah,” I shoulder my bag and walk next to him, “I know you’re not Mr Optimistic and stuff but is there any chance to save Scott?  You know from becoming what he hates?”

 

Silence.

 

That’s not very reassuring, “I don’t know.  Only a few can come back from it, if we can hold the bond making me his Alpha, it’s possible.”

 

“It’s a pity you’re not like me and a girl too,” I try and make it a joke, “Scott really doesn’t handle male authority figures well, his dad is a complete abusive dick, he tends to get on better with women.  You know it’s weird the only male figures he tends to listen to are my dad and Deaton,” I walk on a bit more before I realise Derek’s stopped in his tracks with a stunned expression.  “What?”

 

“It wouldn’t be that simple would it?” Derek’s frowning, “If we could find a female Alpha to accept him into her Pack, would he fight the bond with her as much as he’s fighting the bond with me? Come on, I need to drop you off for your girls sleepover at mine, then I need to talk to Melissa about Scott.”

 

I hurry along beside him and don’t even get to enjoy the ride to his.  He carries my bag up and I find Peter and Erika both waiting for me.  At least until Derek tells them about what I said and then Peter’s getting his jacket and I’m left behind with Erika.


	26. Chapter 26

Sitting in the hard hospital chair beside Mrs McCall’s bed I watch her sleep and wrap my arms around my stomach.  I’d been so focused on my sleep over with Erika I didn’t mention to Derek just how angry Scott had been.  While I was attempting to navigate the mysteries of the female slumber party he was losing his temper at his mom and hurting her.  Luckily Derek and Peter had been on their way to the McCall’s and had managed to stop Scott before he did more than superficial injuries.

 

But he still put his mom in the hospital.

 

If only I’d said something else, or even asked Derek to go straight to the McCall’s, I might have been able to stop Scott earlier. Instead I’m sitting here and Scott’s strung up in the Argent’s basement while an emergency contact Peter knows is trying to force the bond onto Scott.

 

Wiggling as my butt goes numb I hold myself together and hope this last ditch plan works.  If it does then Scott will be leaving with his new Alpha and going to live in Florida.  If it doesn’t then Scott will be killed, cut in half, burned to ashes and scattered around the forest.

 

He’s almost completely feral now, the chance of him coming back is not in his favour.  The downside is that as his anchor, and his human pack member, Allison is being affected too.  If Scott dies part of her will too.

 

A soft knock at the door makes me look up, dad’s there, he’s exhausted, the official story is a break in at the McCall house, and Scott staying at our house before he leaves to stay with relatives.  So far no one’s asked why Scott’s not come to see his mom and dad is fielding questions.  “Hey,” Dad calls gently, “You hungry?”

 

Shaking my head I go back to watching Mrs McCall sleeping, they gave her medication for the pain and it makes her sleepy.

 

“Stiles,” Dad moves in closer, “You need to remember to eat, just like I do. And I have some good news, the bond took, Scott’s new Alpha is in charge and they’ve stop sedating him.  They’ve loaded him into the big truck and Allison’s settled near him,” That’s the other part of the issue, the bond between them is too strong to break safely.  Chris will go with them for a while and then he’ll be shuttling back and forth between here and Florida.

 

I nod despondently and he sits next to me, his arm settles across my back, “Stiles, I know there isn’t a lot of hope for Scott right now, but the bond took, the longer the bond lasts, the higher Scott’s chances.  And Scott is a fighter, he’s strong, and inside he’s a good kid.  This is all in his favour.”

 

Nodding some more I lean into him and let him think I’m upset over Scott, which I am, but I’m also still upset I couldn’t protect his mom, that I couldn’t see the problem and fix it earlier.

 

Mrs McCall stirs and dad tenses beside me, he thinks she’s at the point where she’s going to leave him.  Scott’s on a downward spiral he might not pull out of.  The way the divorce was set up is that when Scott is no longer living there the house will be sold and the money given back to his dad.  This means Mrs McCall is moving in with us.  Dad’s sat me down and talked me through how this is going to be hard for us, and for Mrs McCall, because she’ll have lost her house, her son, and she needs to get things in order before she leaves dad too.

 

I’m not convinced she’s going to leave.

 

That’s not a bad thing, dad could use the adult company and it’s clear he really cares for Mrs McCall, who is just as clear about caring for him.  And if everything goes south with Scott, she’ll need someone there when her whole world collapses around her.

 

Without each other I’m not sure how long dad or I would have lasted after mom left us.

 

We stay like that for a while until Mrs McCall starts waking up and I get sent off for food while dad tells her about Scott.  Hands in my pockets I scuff my feet on the floor as I make my way to the canteen.  I made sure I get a healthy balanced diet and I eat every single scrap of food.  My stomach doesn’t like the food being in there but it’s good for me so it stays.

 

Slouching back to the room I knock before I walk in and dads sitting on the bed holding Mrs McCall while she cries. Slowly I step back out and close the door, they don’t need me there while they do that and I sit on a nearby chair.  It reminds me of waiting for Lydia to wake up, that was almost simple back then, things were more black and white, Scott wasn’t crazy, things weren’t in the process of being destroyed in my life.

 

God I hate hospitals.

 

I used to have to sit out in the corridor when they came round and did stuff to mom too.  They’d give her bed baths and change the sheets and I’d sit out here knowing they were hurting her and there was nothing I could do to take her pain.

 

Wallowing in memories I don’t notice dad come out until he touches my shoulder, “Stiles?  Could you help me with Mel?  She needs to go to the bathroom and there aren’t any nurses to help.”

 

“Sure,” I agree and wonder why Mrs McCall would even let me near her that way, she has got to be desperate.

 

She’s also sitting up in the bed with her legs swung over the edge.  Mostly she needs us to help stabilise her as she totters to the bathroom on slow unsteady feet.  We’re not needed for the actual peeing moment and I’m really glad I’m not a werewolf so I don’t have to listen to that.  We then escort her back to bed and she’s moving about the same but it’s obviously tired her out.

 

Tucking her back in, dad and I work in tandem just like we did with mom and I have to swallow down the bad memories and focus on the good ones.  Mrs McCall isn’t here to die, she’s coming to ours soon, this place isn’t taking her away from us, it’s only a temporary holding area.

 

Later I drive dad home and we walk into the dark empty house.  We hunker down in the dining room, dad on paperwork, me on homework.  I’ve managed to stay up to date on my school work but I’m back sliding on the exercise front, I’m still doing practice but it won’t be enough.

 

Eventually we go to bed, I pull on the pyjamas Peter got me and sit on my bed waiting.  Dad’s door clicks shut so I turn to my window.  One moment there’s nothing there, the next there’s a shadow with glowing blues eyes.  I let Peter in and he’s wearing the green t-shirt and shorts set with penguins on, penguins that are wearing sunglasses and holding glasses with ice and umbrellas in them.

 

I have no idea why he keeps wearing those horrible things and he does admit that he knows they are horrible, tacky, and tasteless.  And then he’s sliding into my bed so I follow him and spoon him.  Weirdly these are the best moments of my day.  Holding Peter Hale in my arms like he’s a giant teddy bear is so relaxing.

 

“You’re very upset right now,” he murmurs quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Not really,” I mutter and cuddle in closer, “I heard Scott accepted the Alpha bond,” I try and steer the conversation away from some of the real issues.

 

“Yes, she only had to roar at him once and he just collapsed into it, it’s a good sign,” He’s talking like this is all matter of fact, like it happens every day.  “She specialises in this sort of thing, werewolves that lose control and turn feral even with an anchor, her success rate is very high.”

 

I nod into his back and hold onto him, it’s like he’s the only solid real thing in my life, the only constant and that says a lot, Peter is not someone that can be trusted and yet he’s the only thing holding me together right now.

 

“But that wouldn’t be what upset you.  Is it Melissa moving in here?” He asks and there’s no pressure from him to answer.

 

“No, not really. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it.  I know she makes my dad happy.  I know she cares about me.  I know she’s going to be homeless in a few days otherwise.  But this was also my mom’s home and this is the first time another woman is going to live here with us,” I sigh into his skin and shake slightly.  “Mom and Mrs McCall got on really well, I know mom would want dad to be happy, and I know no one can ever take my mom’s place but at the same time,” I’m a bit ashamed to admit to anything bad right now.

 

“But at the same time,” Peter prompts and then adds, “It’s your home, your territory, and it’s always hard when someone else lives in your spaces and your places.”

 

“Yeah,” I shiver against him, “That, just that.  I don’t mind her moving in, it’s just another change I have to get used to, and I can, I can get used to it.”

 

“Ah,” Peter wiggles around so he’s facing me, “I see.  Change.  I could tell you life is change and lecture you on the adaptability of humans, but right now I think you’ve had enough change to last you several decades Stiles Stella.  So I will tell you that I think this will be the last change you will have to weather for a while.  Not only does your dad, Melissa and Chris know about werewolves, you are now a permanent member of the Hale Pack, the area is quiet for the moment, there is a truce with the hunters, and Scott was the only problem we were dealing with.  Things will be unchanging for a short time, enjoy the peace Stiles.”

 

Resting my head on his chest I let him hold me and try to drift off to sleep.  It’s better when he’s here I don’t have any nightmares, he soothes me, and I’ve asked him why he keeps coming over, he just steers the conversation away so I know he’s not going to answer me any time soon.

 

He’s also admitted to me that this is normally the point where he manipulates people.  I’m at a low point where I’m weak and open to suggestion, easy prey, he also said that’s why he’s so bad at comforting me because he’s not sure how to help me, it’s not something he normally does.

 

I must fall asleep because at some point he has to wake me up with, “Stiles Stella, I have to go, your dad is awake, I’ll see you later,” his warmth slips from the bed and out of the window, he even closes the window behind him, and then dad’s knocking on my door and poking his head around it asking what I want for breakfast.

 

Dragging myself out of bed I make myself go for a shower and get ready to face another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I am so sorry about the rubbish updating of this story, I cannot believe how busy work is, it’s supposed to be the quiet time of the year.


	27. Chapter 27

Pacing in the kitchen I wait anxiously for Mrs McCall to get here.  Today is the day she moves in with us.  Dad and I have obsessively cleaned the house from top to bottom, and we’ve set up the spare room for her.  Dad doesn’t want to pressure her into anything and has already admitted to me that they haven’t done anything like that yet either, something about love being more than physical.

 

Isaac volunteered to cook for us so Mrs McCall could have a proper home cooked meal when she got here. And I like Isaac’s cooking, he’s even letting me move around and fidget while he cooks.

 

Last night I was extra restless and had trouble sleeping, Peter didn’t seem to mind, he stayed awake with me most of the time and we talked.  He told me about the new house, he’s still terrorising the workmen, most of the physical stuff is done, they’re starting with the cosmetic things and they need some of my input soon for my room.

 

Giving up doing circuits in the kitchen I wander around the rest of the house and I pass through the living room when I notice the small photo frame from the fishing competition isn’t lying face down anymore.  Moving closer I pick up the frame because I have to be seeing things.  It’s not the same frame, this one reads, ‘Family: The Greatest Gift You’re Ever Be Given’, and the picture is different, this one is of me and dad when I was older than the fish photo, this is the first time I tried lacrosse and I’m wearing too big pads, the stick is bigger than me, I’m covered in grass stains, and dad’s kneeling next to me and beaming at me like I’m his whole world.

 

My hands are shaking as I put the photo frame back and I quickly check the other photos.  Someone’s put the originals back.  All the ones I edited are back to how they were.  I replaced myself with Scott and someone’s undone all that and put me back.

 

“Stiles?” Isaac’s standing in the doorway, “Your heart is doing this weird thing, are you okay?”

 

Nodding at him I stare at myself in a photo, a photo of me and mom and dad.  “Are you sure?” Isaac says from right behind me, I jump and he’s staring over my shoulder, “Wow, your mom is a babe. I can see where you get it from.  As a girl you are beautiful, and as a guy you are very good looking.”  He’s peering at the other photos, “You have her eyes and her freckles.” 

 

Sliding an arm around me he moves closer, “Dad always said Cam looked like mom the most,” he hunches in, “He said there wasn’t anything of her in me, that’s why I was so stupid and he had to punish me so much.”

 

Oh my god.

 

“Isaac. No. That was never your fault, anything your dad did is on him.  My dad gets called to all sorts of domestic abuse stuff, he says what makes it worse is that the abuser always tells their victim it was their fault, that it was something the victim did that triggered it.  The abusers have to convince their victims of that so the abuser won’t get into trouble or be forced to face the consequences of their own actions,” I may babble that at him and he nods before he buries his face in my neck.

 

“So if it wasn’t my fault, if it was all just him, how come he’s my anchor?” And I have no idea how to answer that.  “Derek looked surprised when I told him, the guy’s anchor is anger and he can’t understand how my dad is mine.”

 

“Was your dad always like that?  I mean from all public accounts he changed radically after we now know Matt nearly drowned in his pool.  Did he change towards you and Cam then?”  I flounder a bit, I’m as good at this comforting thing as Peter is.

 

Stiffening in my arms Isaac pulls back, “He did change a bit then, he was moody and then something else happened, something that had mom walking out on us.  Then Cam left for the army, it wasn’t too bad, but then we got the letter from the army telling us Cam had died and it was like waking up to find someone else there, someone that looked like dad, talked like dad, but he wasn’t dad anymore.”

 

“Then it was never you,” I tell him.  “You didn’t try and drown Matt, you didn’t make your mom leave, and you didn’t kill your brother.  None of it was you.”

 

Looking completely unconvinced Isaac lets me hug him a bit more and then goes back to the kitchen so the food doesn’t burn.  I’m left in the living room staring at photos I know I changed but are now back to how they used to be.  And I have no idea how or even who did it.

 

My phone beeps, it’s dad, they’ve finally released Mrs McCall from the hospital and they’re leaving now.  I spread the word and go to help Isaac, mostly by staying out of his way and setting the table.  Before long most of the pack are here and all we’re waiting for is the guest of honour herself.

 

Mrs McCall walks in the house slowly.  Most of her stuff is already here, courtesy of Peter, he got some professional moving crew in and stripped her house in under a day.  The realtors are selling it shockingly cheap because her ex is a dick and wants a fast sale.

 

Spotting us all hanging around her eyes widen and she blinks.  Isaac bumbles out, “Dinners ready if you are?  Do you need time to rest or anything?” He even wrings his hands a little.

 

“No, I mean dinner sounds amazing, thank you,” She glances up at dad who smiles at her, “You didn’t have anything to do with the cooking did you?”

 

“What? No, I was picking you up from the hospital, it’s all Isaac, and I have it on good authority that he’s an excellent cook,” Dad helps her off with her coat and bends down to do her shoes.  “Now sit down, eat, take your pain killers, because they’ll be wearing off at about that time, and then you can decide what you want to do.  Remember you have time off sick for a while, so no work for you Mel.”

 

“Fine,” she huffs and then sniffs the air, “It does smell good.”

 

Taking our cue we all shuffle off to sit down and eat.  The conversation is stilted and awkward. Peter even behaves himself and doesn’t pick on anyone.  Erika is quiet and doesn’t get too snarky.  Boyd says even less than normal, and it’s nice to see Isaac preen under the praise of his cooking, because this is awesome and I tell him so.

 

Derek volunteers to wash up and Peter sighs and agrees to do the drying up.  Boyd, Erika, and Isaac clear the table and it seems that I’m going to be showing Mrs McCall her bedroom with dad.

 

And they say the art of subtly is dead.

 

As she’s taken the pain killers she moves under her own steam, we go up and I can see her looking at dad’s room, she frowns when we go the spare room.  The same spare room that used to be full of stuff but is now cleared out, scrubbed, and has a bed, new sheets and most of Mrs McCall’s things from her room.  She gasps and looks around and then stares at dad.

 

Flushing dad rubs his face and stammers a lot, not really saying anything.  I don’t really want to butt in but dad is totally not handling this.  I cough and say, “Dad wanted to show you that you mean more to him than just the physical thing, that he won’t pressure you ever, and this is as much your home as ours,” I lie and exaggerate a bit but her face softens and she whispers his name before stepping closer to him and going for a hug.

 

“Mel,” Pressing a kiss to the side of her face dad hugs her back and I try and give them space by staring at the ceiling.

 

“Jon, thank you, but we are so talking about this later, when I’ve had my stitches out,” She steps back from him and adds, “At some point we are going to get further than hand holding, and I won’t pressure you either,” and I get to see my dad go red.

 

For some reason I find that really funny and stifle a snigger, he glares at me while Mellissa pulls a face and then laughs before wincing and gripping her side.  “Stupid bruises.”

 

“You need a rest?” Dad asks her and she shakes her head, “Well, do you want to go downstairs and veg in front of the TV?”

 

Cocking her head at him she smiles, “Meaning do I want to rest downstairs in front of the TV instead of up here?”  It’s dad’s turn to wince, “Okay sure, I’ll do that, and you can stop hovering so much, I’m not that fragile, I’m healing.”

 

Wisely dad keeps his mouth shut and helps Mrs McCall put a few of her things away before we all go down stairs and the others join us in the living room.  Dad and Mrs McCall sit on the couch near each other and then there’s this mini stampede as the werewolves all try and sit next to, or near, me.

 

Derek and Peter cheat outrageously and win their seats, the three teen wolves end up on the floor at my feet and it’s just like at Derek’s but more squished in.  Mrs McCall is laughing at us and dad’s struggling to keep a straight face.

 

Channel surfing and hopping about a bit we finally land on something we can all watch.  It’s kind of cosy.  Relaxing back into my seat I fidget in place, but the wolves are used to that now.  They don’t protest when my knees jiggle and just move to get comfy.  Peter and Derek let me play with their fingers and wriggle around on the seat.

 

At different intervals the three teens and me are sent to raid the kitchen for heart healthy snacks.  During one of them I’m carrying back some drink refills and Mrs McCall’s speaking to Derek, “No seriously, thank you, for everything.  I really don’t know how I would have coped without your help.”

 

Derek’s got his confused puppy look on his face, “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t I help? You’re Pack.”

 

Flummoxed Mrs McCall doesn’t know what to say and I break the growing tension by plopping back down between the adult wolves and handing Peter his soda.  “Thank you Stiles,” he nods at me and sips at it.

 

We watch some more TV and Mrs McCall keeps looking at Derek now and again, she seems thoughtful.

 

Before the next break someone’s cell phone starts ringing.  Dad digs it out of his pocket and hands it to Mrs McCall as he turns the volume on the TV down.  “Hey Chris,” And for a second her voice wobbles.  She nods a few times and adds, “Yes, they’re all here, hang on I’ll put you on speakerphone.”

 

Pressing a button she holds the phone on her knee and then Mr Argent’s voice floats out, “Thanks Melissa.  As I said it’s both good and bad news.  The good news is we now know why Scott turned Feral so quickly.  The bad news is that he’s been taking some strange mixture of mountain ash, wolfs bane, and from what the Emissary here can guess at, mistletoe.”

 

Scott’s been taking wolfs bane?  “How?” I blurt out, “Why would he take something that’s poisonous to werewolves?  And you said mountain ash too?  That’s a natural barrier to the supernatural.”

 

“That’s part of the problem,” Mr Argent’s dry voice carries on, “He’s currently vomiting up black goo as his body is finally rejecting all of those things.  He must have been taking it regularly because it’s built up.  The thing is Allison knows nothing about it, she’s never seen him take anything, she says it was a point of pride to Scott that he didn’t take any kind of medication or drug,” And it was, he wasn’t stuck with his inhaler anymore, he was free of it.  “When Scott’s conscious he has no memory of taking anything, but he has gaps in his memory, he doesn’t remember a few things he done, like his attack on Melissa.”

 

Oh.

 

“I’ve convinced him for now to just ride it out and when he’s back on his feet he can phone you Melissa.  I’ve hidden it from him at the moment because he wants to come back, he thinks we got him away because the Emissary here is very into werewolf healing, especially the more exotic things like long term exposure to wolfs bane.”  Chris goes on bit more and I wonder what an Emissary is.  “With the Alpha bond cemented, and the poisons being rejected by his body, Scott’s already showing more Scott like tendencies, and Allison, it’s like watching her wake up from a dream, she remembers a lot more than Scott does.”

 

“Chris,” Dad already has his arm around Mrs McCall, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?  Does Scott have a chance to come back from this?  Because he was pretty out of it the last time I saw him.”

 

I think we all hold our breath, “Yes, Jon, you didn’t see the werewolves here, once Scott was diagnosed properly, their whole attitude changed, they still have a worst case scenario for him, but it’s no longer being put down, it’s more any long term affects and the memory loss he’s suffering.”

 

“Oh thank god,” Mrs McCall is shaking.  “When he… In the house,” she shudders, “That wasn’t him, that wasn’t Scott, that wasn’t my little boy at all.”

 

“Melissa,” Chris says softly, “The change in him already, I know we discussed certain things before I left to come here, but I don’t think we’re going to need them.  I really think he’s going to make it.”

 

Mrs McCall is nodding, not that Mr Argent can hear her, so dad says, “Thank you Chris, just thank you.”

 

They wrap things up pretty quickly and then Isaac is shifting around and fidgeting worse than me, he glances up at Derek and asks, “Why would any werewolf want to take wolfs bane?”

 

It’s Peter that answers, “There’s a ridiculous rumour that occasionally runs around, that says adding wolfs bane to alcoholic drinks allows a werewolf to get drunk.”

 

“Does it work?” Isaac is looking thoughtful, and like he’s plotting.

 

“No,” Peter is firm about that, “All it does is poison the wolf and makes them vomit to try and get rid of the poison.  Most foolish wolves only do that once and learn not to do it again.”

 

Nodding Isaac leans back against the seat, hopefully he won’t try that any time soon. This time it’s dad that asks, “And the addition of mountain ash with mistletoe?”

 

Everyone looks to Peter, who raises an eyebrow, and then answers with, “I’ve no idea, the mountain ash should block anything supernatural, it would have interfered with Scott’s ability to heal himself, but wolfs bane is poisonous to humans as well.  As to the mistletoe, it’s poisonous to everyone, even werewolves can die from it.  None of that mixture makes sense.” He pauses and glances at Derek, “We could try asking Deaton if he knows anything, he might be a retired Emissary but he might be able to help.”

 

“Deaton?” Dad seems as surprised as the rest of us, “Isn’t he just a vet?”

 

Peter’s mouth twitches, “Oh he’s much more than a vet, but he’s only been a vet since before my family was burned alive.  The Hales have been without an Emissary for some time.”

 

While we’re all curious about Emissaries and what they are, Peter manages to talk us into waiting, he wants us all to go to Deaton’s and talk to him at the same time, that way the vet can tell us what an Emissary is and why he walked away from the job.

 

This is also the time that Mrs McCall starts to get really tired.  Everyone leaves and I end up doing homework while dad helps her get ready for bed.  When he clicks her door closed he comes into my room and sits on my bed as I type up ideas and thoughts for an essay that isn’t due for a while.  “Hey dad, how’s she doing?”

 

“Honestly? I have no idea how she’s holding it together, if any of that had happened to you I’d be a basket case,” He admits.  “I’m just really glad right now that you’re doing better than you have been.  You’re happier, you’re sleeping better, and you’re more you.”

 

Freezing in place I wonder how to play this but then he’s saying, “I’m so sorry Stiles.  I didn’t see it, I didn’t see any of it.  I just thought you and Scott had a tiff, and then I took his side, I believed him over my kid, I trusted him instead of you and look where we are.  Holy mother of god, if I’d just talked to you earlier, can you imagine the crap I could have stopped.”

 

“Dad,” I turn around and flounder a bit more, god this comforting thing is harder than it looks.  “I could have come to you earlier, I could have talk to you, I could have done things differently too.”

 

Snorting he moves so he can hug me and adds, “The thing is Stiles, I’m the adult, I’m supposed to know better, and I’m the damn Sheriff, I’m trained to know better, and I screwed up.  I promise I’m going to do better from now on. I love you Stiles, you are the best kid anyone could ever have.”

 

“Love you too dad, I love you too,” I hug him back and we have a moment.  It doesn’t last, dad goes to bed and I save my essay notes and wait for Peter.

 

I’m sitting on my bed in my pyjamas when he knocks on my window. Letting him in I wait for him to go to bed, but he sits down near where I was sitting and gets out swatches of cloth and books of paint colours that all look suspiciously similar to each other.

 

“Here, I’ve made some ideas about your room, I’m having difficulty blending the male and female.  There are colours that are traditionally one or the other, but getting both is testing my creativity. So I wondered about painting two walls one colour, and the other two walls a different colour, and where they meet paint shapes of the other colour onto the wall.” Fishing his phone out he loads up some pictures and shows them to me, “See on this one a girl has had butterflies painted in on the darker wall in the lighter paint.  I thought that we could put swirls and geometric shapes on yours, that way you are blending when you switch from male to female, but at the same time the colours are separate and distinct just like you are.”

 

He shows me some more photos of rooms with shapes painted on the walls and it looks good, in fact it looks kinda cool and I nod, “That actually does look awesome Peter,” I tell him and I still can’t believe how much effort he keeps going to for me.  He’s not picking one part of me over another, he’s accepting both parts of me and acting like I’m perfectly normal regardless of me being Stiles or Stella.

 

“Good I’ll start working on colour combinations then,” he smirks at me, “Trust me Stiles Stella, you are going to love your room in the Pack house.  I’m searching for wig stands and other things I think you’ll enjoy using there too.”  He stands up and ruffles my hair, “Shall we retire to bed?”

 

“Yeah, I’m kinda bushed,” I yawn and stretch.  He’s back to wearing the horrific blue and orange patched set.  I’m glad when my covers go over and block them from view.  Spooning him I fidget a bit and then ask, “Peter?”

 

“Hmm,” Is the sleepy reply.

 

“Is Scott really going to get better?” I really want him to get better.  I want him to be Scott again.  He might be a werewolf but he’s just a puppy and he’s been my brother for so long, I’m worried about him so much.  I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, I’d do almost anything to help him. But at the same time I know if he comes back he’ll be living here, he’ll be in this home, and dad will stop looking at me, he’ll look at Scott again.  Mrs McCall will always pick Scott over me, and she should, he’s her son.  And I’ll have to stay out of the way in this house and be extra careful to hide what I am from all of them.

 

“Yes,” Peter murmurs, “The long term effects still have to be determined and of course it will be months, if not years, before he’ll be up to breaking the bond he’s forged with his new Alpha.  Even though the downward spiral was hastened by drugs, the upward spiral will be slow going.”

 

“Oh,” And I’m a horrible person for feeling relief that Scott won’t be back for a while, “Good, I’m glad he’s going to be okay,” and that is the complete truth.

 

Wiggling a bit Peter manages to snuggle back into me, “So now you can stop worrying about Scott and you can take some time to think about yourself, for example you can think about paint and swatches and what type of lights you want in your new room.”

 

Groaning I let my face press into his neck, “You’re not going to let up on this are you?”

 

“No, I will ruthlessly hunt you down so you can choose between fabrics, and shades of colour, and lamp shades, and the cut of your blinds and curtains.  We haven’t even touched on your ensuite bathroom, just think of the endless conversations we can have about tiles and tap fittings,” he teases me as I fake gagging noises behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you so much for sticking with me and the very sketchy uploading days. A few more might go astray with month ends and year ends looming ahead, but hopefully life will settle down again.
> 
> Also I am both a fan of the woflsbane letting werewolves get drunk trope while also thinking it’s a daft trope because wolfsbane is poisonous to werewolves, it depends on the fic I’m writing as to which one I follow.
> 
> Also i would like to thank the very talented bellecat for the awesome cover (which I would do a smart do a link for but I'm not techno minded, but try this: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1076013 I hope that works).


	28. Chapter 28

Raw.

 

Exposed.

 

Hunted.

 

Snapping my eyes open I look around Derek’s room and try to breathe past the emotions I’m convinced I’m getting from him.  He’s wrapped around me, he’s spooning me, and I feel like one of those comfort toys you give kids and then they hug them to death.

 

Hot breath whispers on my neck and I struggle not to fidget and just let Derek sleep.  He’s a bit twitchy and for some reason all three of the werewolves living here have been sleeping badly, they’ve all been having nightmares, and they all have some fantastic material from their lives to really haunt them when they sleep.

 

I’ve been researching supernatural nightmare inducing creatures and Peter has given me full access to his laptop.  In the spirit of the recent events we’ve also told my dad, Mrs McCall, and even Mr Argent.  So far all of us are coming up with nothing.

 

Peter hasn’t stopped coming to my room to sleep, but it’s hard to get enough sleep when he’s almost afraid to close his eyes, he says I help to keep the worst of the dreams at bay, but he still whimpers and I know he’s reliving the house burning down.

 

Behind me Derek whines in pain and I pat his hand uselessly and try to hold onto the fun and laughter we had running through the woods.  It really was a good run today.  The weather held off long enough for me not to get wet and as we pulled away in our jeep the sight of four miserable, soaking wet, werewolves made me smile.

 

Along with the werewolves not sleeping the rest of my life is up and down depending on the day.  Mrs McCall has had her stiches out and I think had a talk with my dad, it’s clear she wants more from this relationship than hand holding and I don’t think my dad’s sure how to handle it, mom was his one and only, Mrs McCall is being incredibly patient with him and they’re taking it slowly.  At school my grades are holding or going up, Lacrosse is awesome we have yet to lose a game since I re-joined, Jackson was getting better but for the last few day has back slide to the point that Danny blew up at him and never ever wants to talk to him ever again.  I have no idea what Jackson said to him to make Danny walk out on him like that.

 

I’m also struggling to learn to call Mrs McCall ‘Mel’ like she asked me to.

 

Sighing I do my best not to move but Derek snuffles and whimpers anyway and then he jolts awake.  He’s done this a few times, he always covers me like he’s putting his body between me and whatever he thinks is going to hurt us.  He’s also kind of heavy, I don’t heave him off of me because he retreats to the other side of the bed and won’t cuddle then.

 

“Sorry,” he grunts and slides back off of me.

 

“’S’okay,” I tell him and stretch out, “Though I should tell you that I am now wide awake, I won’t be able to lay here much longer,” I roll over and I’m all Stella now.  “I hope you were able to get some sleep today.”

 

“It’s fine,” He won’t look at me and keeps his eyes away from me.  “We should probably get ready, I still have dinner to make.”

 

“Yes Derek,” I even have a little bit of grace when I get up, glancing back I find him staring at me and he flushes before he looks away.

 

Shrugging at the strangeness of werewolves, because Peter has been a complete hug monster recently, I go to Peter’s room and internally do a happy dance at the beautiful blue dress he left out for me.  Hurrying to the shower I luxuriate in washing and getting ready to wear my beautiful clothes.  In no time at all I’m walking out of his bedroom and watching the bottom of the dress flair at every step.

 

Derek’s standing in the kitchen opening cans of something.  There’s more than one reason why Isaac is the best cook in this household.  In the background there’s music playing softly and it reminds me of those orchestral things we used to be inflicted with during music lessons.  The only thing different to those lessons is the fact that I get to see Derek do a few dance steps as he empties the tins of food into a microwavable dish.

 

The spin to the microwave should be completely unnecessary but it does look good and I stand there staring.

 

Stopping and staring at me Derek tilts his head and one of his eyebrows might lift higher than the other one.  “You dance?” I blurt out.

 

“Ballroom yes, I’m not as good at the other ones,” He admits and I have no idea how to process that information.  “Would you like to dance Stiles Stella?” And Derek Hale, Alpha of the Hale pack holds his left hand out to me.

 

“I don’t know how to,” I really want to though.  As Stiles I’m not that interested in watching people dance, as Stella I love to see the dresses and the way the women always look so damn graceful and elegant, like swans drifting effortless over the water, when in reality you know they’re peddling like crazy under the water.

 

“I’ll show you,” he offers and I decide to tempt fate by holding out my hand to take his.  He reels me in gently and then we begin.

 

Derek starts with what he calls one of the basic steps of the waltz, everything builds from there.  In reality it involves us dancing in a square box way, neither of us touching as Derek coaches me through picking the correct leading foot each time, “Your other left,” or “Your other right,” is said a lot before I can do it without thinking.

 

Once I can do that he ramps it up by doing the hold.  And I’m disappointed that it involves no waist touching, his right hand sit on my left shoulder blade instead.  My left hand does get to sit on his muscly upper arm, and if this were anyone else but Derek I could have happily stored up that memory.

 

We do the same basic box but this time Derek sort of twists us as the same time so we somehow end up going around in a circle at the same time.  It’s a simple rinse and repeat motion, “Good, that’s really good Stiles Stella, you’re getting the hang of this really quickly.”

 

To finish off the lesson we have to bend our knees at one point and then straighten up, it gives that up and down flow bit, I thought that was achieved by going on your tip toes and Derek tells me there is a move like that too, but this one is done by the knees.

 

Having managed to not kill either one of us in this impromptu lesson I’m in a ridiculously good mood when Derek’s ears all but perk up and he looks over to the door with a smile, the others must be home now.  We don’t stop dancing and I’m in the middle of showing off my dance moves when Derek sort of detaches from me and swings me so I’m facing them.  My dress flairs out dramatically and I can’t hold in my laughter.

 

When I see them I attempt to give a little curtsey, “Did you know that Derek can dance? And not only dance, he can waltz.”

 

“He took lessons as a child,” Peter says and then dismisses us with, “I need to shower, will dinner be ready soon or were you too busy playing?”

 

Any relaxation Derek has is gone and he’s back to being just Derek, “I’ll microwave it when you’re all ready to eat.”  Moving away Derek goes to grab cutlery and I stand a bit awkwardly as Peter stalks off and his bedroom door slams so hard the doorframe reverberates.  Isaac flinches and scurries off to his room.  Boyd and Erika do rock, paper, scissors to determine who gets Derek’s room first.

 

Ignoring them all I go and sit as quietly as I can on the couch.  Sitting cross-legged I amuse myself by spreading my dress out over the cushions and then reading a magazine.  Someone here likes to read factual stuff and I try to immerse myself in National Geographic and the stunning pictures they always do so well.

 

When the couch dips next to me I don’t look up but I know Peter’s lounging there, he’s got a very nice blue dress shirt on and he’s back to smiling at me.  “Anything interesting in there?” He’s pointing to the magazine and then he slides in close to me, crowding into me, and his arm slides around me so our sides press against each other.

 

Annoyed at him I try to shift away but his hand on my other side tightens slightly, huffing I put the magazine down and glare at him, “Yes thank you Mr Hale, there are several things that are interesting in here, things I doubt even you would think are frivolous wastes of time.” Closing the magazine with a snap I slap it down in his lap, “Do enjoy your reading time,” and I storm off to grab some glasses out of the cupboard.

 

Filling the glasses I go to carry them to the table but Peter’s standing right behind me, only his werewolf reflexes save the glasses and the juice, “Stella, please don’t be angry with me, let me make it up to you by helping.”

 

I don’t get any choice in the matter as he uses a tray to load all of the glasses in one go and glides off to put them on the table.  Rolling my eyes at his back I help Derek by putting bowls out so he can fill them with soup, then I hack some bread into what could be loosely called slices.

 

Peter has to interfere with the soup ladling and to stop him I load up his tray with some of the already full bowls of soup and smile at him, he gets the hint and shuffles off to put the soup on the table, by the time he comes back the rest are ready for him.  Derek carries the bread and I just head for my seat at the table, the other teens are already there before me.

 

Dinner is beyond awkward, Peter is vicious to everyone except me, this is the closest I’ve ever seen to being insane since he was resurrected.  After a particularly venomous snark at Erika, which I can see almost has her in tears, and she’s put up with shitty nasty teenagers for years, Derek tries to get him to apologise but Peter simply verbally swipes at him.

 

I have no idea why Peter’s acting like this but he’s not being the same mild mannered fashion orientated werewolf that I’ve started to get to know.  He’s almost back sliding to how he was when he was insane, power hungry, and living only for revenge.

 

Putting down my spoon I clear my throat, “Thank you so much for the meal Derek, though I’m sorry I seem to have lost my appetite,” I’m not used to this level of tension here, I’ve started to get used to it as being my safe space again.  “I’ve found I dislike high levels of hostility when I’m eating.”  Carefully sliding out of my seat I motion to the couch, “If it’s not too much trouble I’d like to sit quietly to see if my stomach will settle,” Because right now its tying itself up in knots.

 

Nodding Derek lets me go and I walk over to the couch, I refuse to look back, I don’t think I can take Peter glaring at me the way he was Derek earlier.  Going back to sitting cross-legged I arrange my shirt again and pat the soft material, then I lift the magazine back up and fake reading.  I’ve wrapped an arm around my middle to hold myself together and I don’t know why I’m so upset at Peter, but I am.

 

Behind me no one is talking, I can only hear the occasional clink of cutlery on bowls.  Resolutely tuning it out I flip through some pages and try to get sucked into colonies of leaf cutter ants, but it doesn’t hold my interest and I start feeling worse and worse.  My stomach is knotted up even further, my head is starting to pound, I really want to throw up, and I shiver as it begins to get cold in here.

 

Standing up I turn around to find five miserable werewolves all sitting at the table staring at their empty bowls.  Between all the shit I’m dealing with at home and school I just can cope with them right now.  I know I should be doing something but I need some space, the walls are starting to close in on me, “I’m not feeling that well, I think I’ll go home.”

 

“Stella,” Peter stands up too and I just hurry to his room so I close the door in his face.  He knocks on the door, he doesn’t just barge in, “Stella?”

 

“I’m changing,” snatching my other clothes I got to his bathroom and lock the door.  I really do change and I’m so upset and off balance, I don’t understand it, why do I feel so bad?  I can’t think of anyone at school I’ve come into contact with recently that’s been sick, I don’t where I could have caught anything from.

 

Putting all my beautiful clothes away in Peter’s room, a room that is conspicuously free of Peter, I bumble out into the main room and straight into his body.  He was waiting just outside his door, “Urgh,” I startle and flail at him.

 

“Stiles?” In seconds his arms are around me and I’m pulled into a hug, “You smell upset and in pain.”  His hand soothes my back and I lean into him for a few seconds but then my stomach rolls and I gag.

 

“Yeah, not feeling so good right now Peter, I’m going to go home and sleep it off, in my bed, alone,” for some reason I don’t want him near me. In fact I don’t want any of them with me.

 

“Stiles, at least let me drive you home,” He pulls me closer to him and I recoil as I start to vomit.  Luckily I don’t actually throw up on him, it does serve to get him to me go and I stagger over to the doorframe to cling to it.  “This has come on very suddenly Stiles, did you have any symptoms earlier today?”

 

“None,” I croak out and then Erika’s beside me and her arm steadies me where I’m leaning .  “I just want to go home,” and for the room to stop spinning.

 

“Boyd can drive you home, we’ll phone your dad to let him know you’re not feeling well,” Derek is suddenly there and my head spins faster.

 

“Come on Stiles,” Erika keeps me more or less upright and I’m only vaguely aware of them getting me downstairs and into my jeep, at least I think it’s my jeep.

 

The vibrations of the engine make me feel worse, and then like a switch I start to feel better.  At least better enough to groan into Erika’s shoulder, she’s sitting in the back with me.  “I feel horrible,” I whine.

 

“Well that’s something I do not miss,” She rests her cheek against my head, “I used to get flu every other year, and I hated it, it would wipe me out for a month trying to get over that.”

 

“Werewolf healing for the win,” I feebly fist pump and she chuckles at me.

 

I’m not aware of much at home either.  I know dad helps me up the stairs, I know Mrs McCall checks me over, I know I get tucked into bed and I know I fall asleep.

 

What I don’t know is why I’m dreaming Lydia is straddling me on the bed and shaking me by my shoulders yelling my name, “Stiles, Stiles, Stiles, wake up, you wake up right now, and you tell me how you fixed Scott.”

 

“Wha?”  Flailing at her I don’t dislodge her at all and then I can hear my dad and Mrs McCall and how do I end up with weird dreams like this?  “Lydia?”

 

“Ha, you’re awake,” and she goes back to shaking me as my dad and Mrs McCall try and drag her off of me. “No, I’ve been speaking to Allison, I know Scott was poisoned, I need to know how to save Jackson!”

 

Oh my god I think I’m awake now and I think this might not be a dream.  Dazed I stare up at the beautiful red haired genius and I have no idea what the hell is going on.


	29. Chapter 29

Still recovering or not it’s Mrs McCall that drags Lydia off of me.  Dad steps between us so when Lydia slips free she can’t launch herself back on top of me, “Enough,” Dad tells her, “Calm down Lydia.  Stiles isn’t feeling very well…”

 

“He feels sick,” Lydia says and stops struggling, “Headache, chills, like he’s going to be sick any second, yes I know, I’ve already been there.”

 

“How?” Mrs McCall is holding her side as she comes closer.

 

“Because,” And Lydia is using her ‘I’m surrounded by idiots voice’, “It happened to Allison before summer, and it happened to me a few months ago, and now it’s happening to Stiles.”  She can be really patronising when she wants to be, “It was followed by Scott declaring that Allison ‘needs’ him, now Jackson has done the same to me after running Danny, who’s practically his brother off, and I’m guessing that the werewolves in Stiles’ life are going to be saying the same things to him soon too.”

 

That is sounding like a pattern.

 

Only my head is killing me and I groan as I struggle not to vomit.

 

“Look, I need help with Jackson, I’ve managed to knock him out and I’ve secured him in the truck of my car, but it won’t hold him for long, and I don’t know how to purge his body of the wolfsbane, mountain ash, and mistletoe.” Lydia is getting worked up again as I lay there waiting for the room to stop spinning.  “I can’t get hold of Allison and I can’t isolate how Jackson is getting this stuff in his body, I’ve searched everywhere in his house, car, and lockers at school.  He’s no use at the moment because he’s starting to get the blackouts, now help me save Jackson.”

 

I really want to ask if I have to, because it’s Jackson, but Dad is already offering to help and Mrs McCall is stepping up too.

 

“Deaton,” I croak out, “If anyone knows anything, it’ll be Deaton,” and the bastard has been dodging us like a bitch since we found out about Scott.  He’s had emergency after emergency and managed to brush us off.  “If we just turn up we can get the jump on him.  Urgh, give me a few minutes to get dressed.”

 

With a promise of help tendered Lydia leaves, dad stays and assists me by putting socks on me, “Stiles, are you sure you’re up to this?”

 

“Dad, if Lydia’s right, then there’s a good chance I’ve been poisoned, it’s best if I go too.  Plus with you and Mrs McCall there, Deaton might not weasel out of talking to us so much.”

 

“Hmm, maybe, or else we can find out what the poison is before we get you admitted to hospital,” is his rejoinder and I have no idea how he’s supposed to admit me with mistletoe poisoning.

 

Somehow I make it downstairs in one piece, mostly by hanging off of dad, and I sort of pass out on the way to the vets.  I’m nice and comfy as Lydia drives us there.  I stagger to the door to see the closed sign up.  Screw that. I point the way to the back door.  Thankfully nothing has changed since Scott and I stopped talking because we get in with no problems.

 

And Deaton doesn’t see us coming.

 

Well he probably doesn’t, he’s tricky.

 

But the way he jumps and turns towards in examination room is kinda gratifying.  Nothing gets to him usually, he’s always so calm, and seeing him like that is amusing, if only the room would stop going out of focus, and it would be better if I weren’t hanging onto my dad so I can stay upright.

 

“Can I help you?” Deaton asks and sort of takes control of the situation.

 

“Yes,” Lydia goes to charge forward but Mrs McCall grabs her shoulder and holds her back.

 

Instead Mrs McCall steps forward, “Yes, we’d like to talk to you about wolfsbane, mountain ash, and mistletoe, and various poisonings going on.”  I can’t believe she’s being calm about this.

 

Pinching his nose Deaton shakes his head, “And I told you that as soon as I’m not rushing around due to my increased workload I’d look into it for you.”

 

“Well you’ll have to make time now,” Mrs McCall stands a little straighter, “Because it’s no longer just Scott,” She lets go of Lydia’s shoulder adding, “Lydia please tell him what you told us.”

 

Having calmed down, at least a little, Lydia outlines her observations, findings, and then pulls a small notebook out, “And as you can see I’ve already tested both myself and Jackson for the three substances, I can’t find them in me at all, though I still suffer a few of the side effects, I’m wondering on the echo effects from Jackson to me on that, but Jackson tests positive for all three substances, in high amounts, and he shows no physical symptoms for any of them.”

 

Taking the notebook Deaton reads through the pages, “How did you know to test the blood that way?”

 

“It was obvious once I considered the problem,” She examines her nails, “Getting some of the reagents was the hardest part, the actual test was on the same level as high school chemistry.”  I hide my grin in my dad’s shoulder.  So many people underestimate Lydia, she hides her brains very well, most people see exactly what she wants them to see, they don’t bother to see that she is in the top three bracket of GPA in our school.  Only Danny and I can battle her for the top spot, and I think we only make it because she wastes so much time hiding, if she didn’t she blow us out of the water on a regular basis.

 

Flicking through more pages Deaton looks even more surprised, “You were very,” he pauses, “Thorough on your testing.”

 

“I couldn’t isolate the poison vector, I had to be certain how he was getting poisoned, I’ve managed to narrow it down to something he’s eating, but I’m testing all our food and I can’t find it,” she frowns annoyed, “He’s not taking anything that I’m aware of, I’ve searched everywhere I can think of,” she starts to sound upset again, “I just can’t find it.”

 

“And you say Stiles is now poisoned too?” Deaton is finally looking interested in our problem.

 

“No,” Lydia buts in, “He will test negative to any and all of the substances just like I did, and I’m betting Allison did at the time too.  But at least one of the werewolves he’s always with, if not all of them, will test positive.  Somehow he’s feeling the symptoms not them.”

 

Kind of make sense. Like how I can feel their emotions when we cuddle, things that I’m not feeling that must be coming from them.

 

“Your bond to them is that strong already?” Deaton says and I think I just said those things out loud.  “Yes, you could be feeling whatever is affecting them, a phantom illness if you will.”

 

Awesome so I’m not actually sick.  Or poisoned.

 

Wait, that means the others are and I try to stand up straight but nearly fall over instead, I have to warn them, they have to get some kind of help.

 

“And they will Stiles,” Deaton moves closer to me, “Jackson too.  I have something that will force them to expel the mountain ash from their bodies, once that happens, I have something for the mistletoe and then the wolfsbane.”

 

“Good,” I croak out, god my throat is so dry right now, “Because if Scott got poisoned, then Jackson, and now my Pack, who’s doing it?  Three’s a pattern after all,” and I must start passing out, because it goes dark.

 

oOoOoOo

 

Cold, I’m so freaking cold.

 

Flopping a hand out I try and pull covers over me but there aren’t any, I hit someone’s hand then Boyd’s talking to me, “Stiles, Stiles, we need you to stay awake.  Stay awake. You have to drink something first.”

 

“Cold,” my teeth chatter as I talk.

 

“You’re burning up right now.  You’re not the one that’s cold.  You’re picking up on Peter, he’s the one that’s cold,” And Boyd isn’t making any sense.  “Come on Stiles, come on, stay with me.”

 

Trying to get my bearings I look around and I’m in my room, I’m not in the vets anymore, “Wha happn?” I slur and I must have gotten my point across as Boyd shifts around and then sighs.

 

“Well, you passed out, and then a bunch of things happened.  For some reason Lydia had Jackson in the truck of her car, and your dad called Derek.  I’m not completely sure of everything but Peter went nuts trying to get to you when he heard you were sick.  Derek, Peter, Isaac, and Jackson all have the same poisoning as Scott.  We still don’t know how.  Deaton’s given them something and they are all experiencing extreme projectile vomiting, and explosive diarrhoea.  It’s cleaning out the mountain ash so they’re now getting the effects of the poisons, Deaton’s going to give them something to get rid of those too.”

 

“Oh,” I can’t take it all in and I shiver harder.

 

“Here, you have to keep your fluids up,” Boyd holds a bottle to my lips and I’m not thirsty until I sip some of the water and then I try and down the lot in one go, “Whoa, give your body a chance Stiles, a bit at a time.”  When the bottle is empty he helps me lay down again, “Okay, they said if you woke up to make you drink and then let you sleep again.

 

And then it goes dark again.

 

oOoOoOo

 

Groaning I drag a hand over my face and wince as how gross my mouth feels right now.  Luckily my fever broke quite quickly and I’ve been awake on and off for the last two days.  I still feel like crap, but more alive crap than before.

 

“Stop whining,” Erika is heartless, I prefer it when Boyd babysits me, he’s more patient.  “At least all of the poison is out of our Pack, so you should bounce back now.”

 

Grunting I throw my covers off and try to sit up, at least I can hobble to the bathroom on my own now, it was humiliating when dad had to keep taking me there and back again.  Peeing I go back to bed and pull the covers up, only I’m awake now and I can’t sleep anymore.  That’s probably a good sign.  I’m too tired to do anything physically but I’m bored and need mental stimulation and soon.

 

Eyeing up the only other occupant of my room I wonder just how far I can push Erika before she kills me, or else I could side track her with comic based things.  Comic books are probably safer for me so I do my best to get her to engage and entertain me.

 

Dad walks in a few hours later as Erika reads to me, it does pass the time and I don’t have to try and focus my eyes, which don’t want to cooperate just yet.  “You’re feeling better then,” he says and comes to sit next to me, his hand automatically reaching out to my forehead.  “Your temperature is more normal too.”

 

“Feel better,” I croak, my voice is kinda hit and miss at the moment.

 

“Good, Deaton was sure when the poisons were flushed from the three Pack members that tested positive you’ve recover.”

 

“Pack?” I try and ask how they’re doing.

 

“Good, they’re good.  Peter was the worst, he had a higher concentration in his body, unsurprisingly Derek as Alpha bounced back first, Isaac swiftly following him.  They’re all back to normal now, everything in their apartment has been tested and we think we’ve found how they were poisoned.”

 

Really?  I wiggle to sit up and Erika is right next to me, this must be something new as she wants to know the answer too.

 

“It was in the cookies,” Dad tells us, “The same cookies that Isaac brought back from school.  And Jackson.  And Mel remembers Scott having them too.  Whoever is poisoning the werewolves is using the school and the special baking fundraising that’s been running since last year, the same one that ran all summer too.  All three of them are down for a weekly cookie order, an order they pick up with their names clearly labelled on them, cutting down on accidental poisoning of other people.”

 

And I know someone who loves cookies, Peter, he tends to finish an entire pack if one is opened near him.  Derek and Isaac have to eat their portions quickly or Peter will eat them all before they can.

 

“I’ve told them to keep buying the cookies, to not change their routines,” Dad carries on and Erika snorts.

 

“You want them to keep buying the poisoned cookies?” She sounds angry, she hasn’t thought this one out.

 

Dad beats me to the explanation, not that I can talk right now, “Yes.  This unknown person, or persons, has managed to nearly cause Scott to go Feral, and is now going for other werewolves.  They know who we are, but we don’t know who they are.  They’ve proved themselves to be resourceful, cunning, and I don’t want them to realise we know about the cookies.  If they’re forced to attack a different way we’ll take time to discover it, time we don’t have.”

 

She nods and there’s a lot more dad isn’t saying.  Things like now we know we can use the method they’re using to track them back and find out who they are.

 

“Deaton is making some little charm things, all of you are to wear them and to wave them over your food before you eat it, that should tell us if this person has moved on to a different method to make the werewolves eat the poison,” Dad pats my shoulder.  “You’re still down with flu, the others are back in school,” he pauses and won’t look at me, “And as Jackson is beginning to show some of the same signs as Scott did, I’m sorry to say that he’s been, reluctantly, allowed into the Pack.  Derek is now his Alpha.”

 

Oh crap, not Jackson.

 

Erika leans into me, “Hey, Stiles, it’s okay.  He’s coming on runs with us on a Sunday, but only the run, not the after party and TV marathon, ever.  And your dad has made fortnightly Pack meetings at Jackson’s house mandatory.  That should be all the interaction Jackson needs until college.  Neither Jackson, nor Lydia, want to have much more to do with us than that, they certainly don’t want to ever come here, or to the Pack apartment, or the house that’s being remodelled.”

 

There is so much more that Erika’s not saying, things like I won’t have to hide Stella, because Jackson and Lydia will never be around when I get to be Stella.  And I won’t be forced to interact with Jackson because we simply won’t be around each other.

 

“Also,” Dad re-enters the conversation, “It turns out Jackson spilled the werewolf thing to Danny during their fight, so Danny is not only in the know, he’s somehow managed to get Derek to let him join the Pack too.  He’s happy to go running every week, and he’s looking forward to the fortnightly Pack meetings.  He said he had his suspicions, something about teens and not keeping their voices down in class.”

 

Danny knows?

 

“He’s okay,” Erika says and grins, “Plus he’s got Jackson whipped right now, that arrogant prick won’t argue with him and just rolls over,” she laughs, “This should make things easier all round at school, and we get to keep Danny and kick Jackson to the curb.”

 

Dad gives her a look and then shakes his head, “Hmm, we’ll see, as long as he stays away from Stiles I don’t care.”

 

I’m not happy about Jackson being in the Pack, but if he’s staying away and only having minimal contact that could work out.  And I like Danny, everyone likes Danny too, he’s a good addition to the Pack.

 

And best of all I get to keep areas I can be Stella safe from any interlopers, I can still wear my girl clothes if I want to.  Wiggling into the bed I yawn and let dad fuss me a bit more. He and Mrs McCall have tried to sync their work schedules so one of them has always been home with me, or else Erika or Boyd have been here.  I kinda liked knowing there was someone here, I wasn’t so alone.


	30. Chapter 30

I honestly didn’t know Lydia could cook.  I don’t even know why I’m surprised by this.  The cookies are perfectly round and she’s even decorated them.  There’s black circles on the very edges of each cookie made in black icing sugar.  In the middle of the cookies are round rice papers stuck onto the cookie with a cartoon black wolf on them.  Somehow she’s managed to draw on a purple flower in icing sugar and a clump of mistletoe.  Each wolf has the letters ‘R I P’ written on them.

 

Oh and each wolf is wearing some kind of collar with a big ‘P’ dangling from it.

 

She’s not even trying to be subtle about it.

 

As our first fortnightly Pack meeting, I’m rating this a success, cookies or not, this could have gone a lot worse.  Like bodies hitting the ground worse.  Peter’s been on his best behaviour and hasn’t put a paw wrong.  Derek is still crap at being an Alpha so dad and Mel have been chairing the meeting.  Even Deaton has coughed up information and told us about what Emissaries are and how they came into being.

 

And now Lydia is passing around food like a perfect hostess, if you don’t look too hard at the cookies, “But Peter,” Her voice is pitched at just right place that you know she’s riding into battle and her enemies had better not be anywhere she can find them, “I heard that cookies were your favourite, I baked them especially for you.”

 

Weirdly he’s been staying out of her way all evening, or as much as he can, he also won’t look her in the eye.  In fact he’s all but rolling over for her, I’m not sure if she’s realised that he’s not only giving ground to her, he’s submitting to her, meaning he’s letting her have a higher place in the pack than him.  “With the recent revelations I’ve gone off cookies, but thank you so much for baking them for me, the sheer effort and dedication you put into them is humbling,” he says to his socks, because Jackson was very insistent we take our shoes off before entering his parent’s.

 

“Oh but I insist,” Lydia holds the plate of cookies up to Peter again, “Eating them is the polite thing to do.”

 

“No,” Peter is firm and tries to move away from her but she follows him with the plate, “I don’t want a cookie, I’m fine.”

 

Dad turns and says, “Lydia,” he knows what Peter did to her, and I know he’s enjoying Peter getting some form of retribution for his actions, but at the same time dad does try to be the better person.

 

“Sheriff,” She’s back to being her happy sweet self, the one most teachers are stupid enough to fall for and then get their asses handed to them by a strawberry blonde goddess who happens to be a genius.  “I just wanted to make sure that Peter knew I was ready to bury the hatchet,” and not one werewolf is twitching so I don’t think she’s lying but something is making my instincts go crazy.

 

Snagging a nearby biscuit while everyone is distracted by the drama unfolding in front of us, I snap the biscuit in two and hide the pieces.  One of the benefits of ADHD is my obsessive behaviour, and one of my obsessions used to be magic tricks, I wasn’t very good at them but I can still do a bit of sleight of hand, if no one is paying me a lot of attention.

 

Peter’s eyeing up the plate of cookies Lydia trying to make him eat and he’s reluctantly lifting a hand.  I just know that’s a terrible decision so I storm in and take one of the cookies first with a bright, “I love cookies too Lydia.”  Snapping the cookie in two in front of her eyes I make it look like I stuff one half of the cookie into my mouth, but I swap it for half a biscuit and hide the cookie.

 

The biscuit is fully of biscuit-y goodness and I talk with my mouth full, “’S’good, I’d like more,” and the haughty expression has fallen off of Lydia’s face to be replaced by horror and fear.  I was right, she has done something to the cookies.  Pretending to retch slightly I grip my stomach and sway, “Urgh, not good.”

 

“STILES!” Lydia screams it and it must be loud because all of the werewolves cover their ears.  Dropping the plate of cookies she reaches for me, “Stiles, vomit that back up this instant.”

 

Standing up straight I hold out both of my hands, there’s half a cookie in each hand. It only takes her a second to put it together and she glares at me, what I’m not expecting her to do is slap me.  My head is smacked to one side with the power of her blow, and seriously I never want to get hit by her ever again, she can hit really hard.

 

“That wasn’t funny Stiles,” She snarls it as fiercely as any werewolf could ever hope to.

 

“Ow, Lydia,” I protest the slap and then glare back at her, “Yeah well, poisoning the cookies you made for Peter wasn’t funny either,” I shake the now mangled remains of half a cookie at her.

 

“They’re not poisoned,” She scoffs, “I put laxatives in them.  As much as I want to kill Peter and string his entrails up for all to see, I’m not going to do that. Forcing him to spend more time on the toilet as he empties his digestive system of all the food he’s eaten is the next best thing.”

 

“Enough,” Dad is next to me and checking me, “Are you okay Stiles?  Did you eat any of the cookies?”

 

“I’m fine dad, I swapped the cookie for a biscuit,” I flourish the cookie.

 

Dragged into a hug by him I let him fuss me, “Okay, that was clever, but damn it Stiles, that scared me.”

 

“Sorry dad,” I didn’t mean to hurt him or scare him, “I had to be sure Lydia had done something to the cookies, it was the quickest way.”

 

“Hmm,” Dr Deaton is kneeling down and checking the cookies that are now scattered on the floor, “Interesting, how did you get them past Peter’s olfactory detection?  He should have smelt that you’d added the laxatives, and Derek’s an Alpha, even across the room the scent should have reached him.”

 

That’s a really good point and then werewolves in question are picking themselves up off the floor.  “They smell completely normal,” Peter flicks his hands over himself to get rid of any dust he could have picked up.  “I didn’t want one due to my stomach still not being settled.  And the fact someone’s been trying to drive all the werewolves in town insane through cookies.”

 

“It was easy,” Lydia is back to glaring at Peter, “I already knew the poisoner had used three separate substances that are either harmful or used to imprison them.  It was child’s play to work out the mountain ash was the agent used to hide the other two, and then it was simple deduction to discover the ash had to be baked into the cookies, you can easily hide it in the ingredients so it doesn’t show when you’re making them.  The laxatives can’t go in the mixture you sprinkle it on the cookies when they’re hot and the job is done.”

 

I’m both appalled that she tried to give Peter laxatives, even though I understand why she did it, but I’m in complete awe at what she’s found out and then I frown, “So we’ve just spent half an hour this evening trying to make a workable plan to discover the poisoner and you had the method they poisoned the cookies with the whole time?”

 

Blinking she goes to say something and then clicks her mouth shut and shrugs.  “Damn it Lydia,” I pull away from dad, “That’s important information, you’re supposed to tell us things like that, how else are we supposed to uncover the poisoner and save the werewolves?”

 

Crossing her arms she squares off against me, “Supposed to tell you?  Like you were supposed to tell me about the fact my boyfriend was a werewolf and I wasn’t going crazy?  That kind of supposed?”

 

Okay I may have asked for that.

 

Clearing his throat Deaton stands up with the plate of cookies, “However Miss Martin gained the information, and however she chose to share it, we now have that information and we can expand our list of possible suspects.  It will widen our searches but it will make it harder for the perpetrator to slip past us.”

 

The meeting doesn’t last much longer and I’m glad to go home, I’m still recovering and I don’t have the energy to argue with dad when we walk in the house, I just want to go to bed.  I’m not playing in the Lacrosse game tomorrow evening, and I’m not allowed to go running with the wolves on Sunday, I am allowed to let myself in the apartment and to get the soup ready for when they get back.

 

Oh joy.

 

I’m not sure if I’m safe to be Stella there or not.

 

Changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt I lay down in my bed and close my eyes.  Tomorrow is Saturday and I can start to catch up on my homework, my schedule is in tatters and dad has put his foot down, I’m having to give up some of my extra courses so I have more time and energy to concentrate on the ones I’m ahead on, he’s promised I can do some over summer.  He doesn’t want me to wear myself out.

 

Rolling over I let myself fall asleep, I’ll worry tomorrow in the morning, right now I’m exhausted.

 

I must sleep because I keep jerking awake, I can’t sleep as well as I want and I glance over towards the window but I can’t see any glow in the dark blue dots staring at me.

 

Sighing I toss and turn and then give up and sit up.

 

Padding downstairs I raid the cupboard and I’m still amazed at the healthy stuff Mel has found dad, I munch on some fruit and nut thing as I grab some milk to drink.  Glancing around the dark kitchen I pause to make sure I can’t hear anything and then I drink the milk without using a glass.  Putting the milk back in the fridge I grin to myself at having gotten away with it and put the empty food wrapper in trash as I go back to bed.

 

A bed that I still can’t sleep that well in.

 

Groggy and grumpy I read for a bit, then I try sleeping, then I go to the bathroom, then I turn over some more, then I pull the covers over my head.  It goes on and on until morning and I get up with very little sleeping having happened.

 

Dad and Mel have work today, which means I have Derek babysitting me, and Derek might mean Peter.  I tidy the house as they get ready for work and I get twin hugs and kisses as they leave.  Five minutes later Derek is knocking at my door and I hurry to let him in.

 

I’m really happy to see him.

 

Which is weird, I am happy to see him, but I look behind him and there’s no Peter.  Damn it.  Letting Derek in I go and get him a drink and we settle in the living room on the couch together.  He puts a sports program on and I’m bored in seconds, yawning I glance around the room to try and stay awake only to spot Derek’s shoulder and it looks really comfy.

 

Zeroing in on his shoulder I wiggle on the spot and try to work out if he’ll kill me, or let me snuggle into him.  Deciding it’s better to try and fail than sit here a second longer I attempt a stealth move to get closer to him.  He doesn’t even glance at me.  As innocently as I can, I lean into the back of the couch and sort of let my head slide sideways onto his shoulder.  He still doesn’t move.  And for a few seconds I think I’ve cracked it and close my eyes.

 

Except this is really uncomfortable and makes my neck ache.

 

Sitting back up I glare at his shoulder and try to think of a way past the crappy neck angle.  I can’t think of one so I glare harder.  Reaching out I lift his arm up and then get under it as quickly as possible.  Wriggling around I put my back to him and try to pillow my head on his shoulder again, but using his arm as some kind of restraint to hold me in place.

 

It almost works this time.

 

It’s still uncomfortable though and I can’t drop off.  I wiggle a bit more and try to find the perfect place and then Derek says, “Stiles.”

 

Freezing in place I’m glad I can’t see his face, “Hey Derek,” When unsure of how much trouble you’re in act like you’ve done nothing wrong.

 

“What are you doing?” His voice is even and doesn’t even have his normal annoyed tone in it.

 

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night I wanted to take a nap and your shoulder looked comfy,” I prod his shoulder with a finger, “It’s really not that comfy, sorry man but just no.”

 

He sighs and then he’s wiggling around, that makes me look and he’s just pulling a phone out.  Tapping on the screen he rings someone, “It’s me, I’m at Stiles’ get over here, he’s tired too, he’s having as much time sleeping as you are.”  Not even saying goodbye he taps the screen again and eyes me up, “Go and get a blanket or two, I’ll let you have the couch.”

 

Disentangling himself from me he stands up and points towards the door, “Go, go and get a blanket Stiles Stella, and then you two can have a nap and I can watch my basketball in peace.”

 

I’d argue with his high and mighty attitude but I’m tired and I really do want to sleep.  Stomping off I do go and grab a blanket or two and then start stomping back downstairs as the back door clicks shut.  Walking down the stairs I see Peter pass in front of me and he’s in sweatpants and a t-shirt too.  When he cranes his head up to look at me I can see he looks exhausted, drained and like he’s had less sleep than I have.

 

Oh, Derek called Peter to be my nap buddy.

 

Perking up I almost bound over to Peter to push him into the living room and pointing to the couch, “Come on Peter, nap time.”

 

He doesn’t argue, he just lays down with a sigh and holds his arms out to me.  I don’t need much more of an invitation and I almost jump on top of him in my haste to get horizontal with him.  Everything fits right and we sort of slot together like we were made for each other.  We fiddle with the blankets and seconds later he’s fast asleep and I quickly follow him.

 

Derek wakes us for lunch, a lunch he found in the freezer and nuked in the microwave.  Normally sleeping during the day means I won’t sleep that night, so I spend the afternoon reading and doing homework, Peter naps near me and I soon find myself running my fingers absently through his hair, it messes it up and I smirk to myself at how he’ll react when he does wake up.  Derek goes back to watching sports and getting up to fetch me things when I need them. I refrain from doggy jokes and fetching, just.

 

Peter vanishes before dad and Mel get home and I get dragged to the game at the high school I can’t play in at the moment.  Coach is pissed I’m not playing and I have to brain storm with him on game play instead.  We win and I’m shocked with how well Jackson played today, he was totally with the team and not being a jerk at all.  To the point that Danny claps him on the shoulder, it’s clear Jackson is still in the dog house with his friend but he might be able to mend their fences at some point in the future.

 

I also get dragged home and made to go to bed early.  Apparently I have a long day tomorrow so I’ll need my rest.  Not wanting to fight with dad for treating me like a six year old I do go to bed, but I take my phone and keep my kindle nearby.  Faking sleep I wait for him to go downstairs and then I start reading.  Derek actually has good taste in books and I read one he’s recommended.

 

Lost in the dynamic and twisty plot, I yawn a few times and get ready to spend most of the night awake, and then someone taps on my window.

 

Two glow in the dark blue eyes are staring at me through the glass.  Gaping at him it takes me a minute or two to react and get out of bed.  Letting Peter in, he’s wearing the banana shorts today, I shut the window behind him and pounce on the bed in my haste to get back into it.

 

Peter’s just watching me and he tilts his head.  “What?” I ask defensively.

 

“Just wondering if you missed me,” He replies and comes over to slide into bed, he turns like he always does and I get to wrap my arms around him as I spoon him.

 

“Duh,” I grunt and wiggle closer with a sigh, “Yeah, I missed you,” I admit and then this flash of warmth and satisfaction passes through me, oh that’s Peter.  “Did you miss me too?” Is out of my mouth before I can stop it.  I stiffen and wait for the rebuff from him.

 

“Of course I did,” It’s his turn to wiggle, then he sighs and just like that he’s out cold asleep.

 

I get to lay there for another half an hour with a stomach full of butterflies and wondering why my hands are suddenly a bit sweaty before I drift off asleep.


	31. Chapter 31

Peter flicks my ear and slips from my bed and then out my window.  He’s already told me Danny has a family thing after the run, and Jackson is going to see Lydia.  So I’m going to be safe at the apartment, I can be Stella if I want to be.

 

I’m not going on the run, I’ve been told I have to rest up some more and I would be fuming at the way I’m being told what to do, but Peter is going to be there too and I’m looking forward to spending more time with him.

 

Rushing through my shower, after all I’ll be showering at Peter’s before I put on my dress or something else for Stella, so I can scrub properly then, I pull on any old crap and get ready to go.  The sooner I’m there the longer I’ll have to spend with Peter.

 

Dad and Mel are singing along to the radio on the kitchen, it’s an oldies station and then dad has to show off and do a few dance moves, Mel laughs at him but takes pity and dances with him.  I eat the omelette Mel made for me and let them mess around.  Dad looks so much happier lately, things are still stressful with his job and this newest supernatural incursion, but he’s smiling more and he even reaches over to pat my shoulder as he sits down to eat.

 

We don’t really talk about anything serious, dad has more work to do, paperwork tends to breed if you leave it too long, and Mel is covering someone else’s shift.  Her stitches have only just come out but she swears she’s up to going back to work.  She’s managed so far and has promised to take it easy if anything hurts.

 

Dad has to leave first and he kisses Mel’s cheek goodbye and then gives me a one armed hug too.  “Be good today, both of you,” he wags his finger at us, “I’ll see you both later, have good days, love you both.”

 

“Love you too,” Mel blows him a kiss.

 

“Love you dad,” I tell him and he finally leaves, the front door closing with barely a click behind him.

 

Chuckling Mel starts to clear the table, “Men,” she shakes her head and carries the plates out into the kitchen.  I clear the last few pieces and follow her, “Oh thank you Stiles,” she beams at me, “Don’t worry about washing up, I have an hour before work, I’ll get that all sorted, you go and have fun with your friends.”

 

“’Kay,” I turn to go and take her up on her offer but I can’t help mentioning, “You and dad seem to be getting on great,” I fidget a bit, “I mean he’s not looked at anyone since mom died, and I really didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone else.”

 

Filling the sink with water she glances over her shoulder at me, “Is that a problem for you Stiles?  Your mom I mean?  I promise I’m not trying to replace her, Claudia was an amazing woman and I know how much she loved you.”

 

It always hurts to talk about my mom, I miss her so much, even now, how do people take their parents for granted?  Why can’t they see how easy it would be to lose them?  “No, it’s not a problem, not really. I mean I know you’re not my mom and I know you care about me and my dad, that you want him to be happy.  And he’s not really smiled like he does now for years.” I frown, “Damn that did not come out the way I wanted.”

 

Flashing me a smile she starts to put the plates in the soapy water.  “I’ve known you for years Stiles, just spit it out, it’ll be fine honey.”

 

Awkwardly hovering I grab the towel and go to start drying up, it gives me an excuse to stand next to her.  “I think I’m a bit confused, because you and dad, you just click.  Everyone I’ve ever seen on TV or in real life, they kind of flounder around each other once the dating starts, but there’s no floundering, and dad’s not really had a lot of practice at dating,” I’m not even sure I know what I’m getting at.

 

“Oh,” she nods, “Well it does help that your dad and me are good friends.  We’ve spent years getting to know each other, so that floundering isn’t happening.  We might have changed our relationship, but the foundation we’ve built is pretty strong already.” She puts another plate on the side for me to dry.  “I think when your mom got sick and then she died,” she bumps my shoulder with her own, “Jon and I never thought he would look at anyone like that.  It never occurred to me to look at him that way, Claudia was his first girlfriend, he asked her out the first day of high school.  She was his first everything, he went to college and they sent letters to each other, they phoned whenever they could and he never cheated on her.”

 

Wow, I didn’t know that, I knew they’d been together for a while before they got married.

 

“And,” She puts another plate up, “With that in mind I sort of put him in the friend box, he was just ‘Jon’ and Jon was a friend, a fellow parent, someone to relax with on that rare evening we got at the same time.  You know we’d go to dinner sometimes just to have adult talks, and he’d drive so I could have a glass of wine.  We’d tell each other about TV things coming up, sync our schedules as much as we could so one of us would always be about for you boys,” she winces and then adds, “We wanted you kids to know you could always call one of us.  God when I think of the amount of time we’d spend on the phone to each other,” she stops mid-sentence and laughs.

 

“What?” I ask her.

 

“It’s just, we’ve been each other’s confidant, we have literally spoken to each other for hours and hours on the phone, we gravitate towards each other at any event we’re both at.  We hoarded our joint evenings off and spent them together every chance we got. And it’s just occurred to me we’ve been acting like we’ve been dating for years,” she snorts and starts washing a glass.  “Suddenly some of my dates acting really weird every time they saw your dad when they were on a date with me makes sense.”

 

Starting on the forks she rolls her eyes, “Urgh I can’t believe I was that blind for so long.  Instead of chasing after men who were single for some very good reasons I could have chased your dad.  Now he is a keeper, you find yourself someone like him, someone who sees you for you, bad bits as well as good and there’s just something about him, he makes me want to be a better person, not just for him, but for me.”

 

“You want me to date my dad?” I’m getting a little lost.

 

“Nope, he’s all mine, for as long he wants to be.  No I mean you find someone who can be your friend, as well as your other half, I know you kids think sex is love, but take it from me, they’re usually two different things.  There’s nothing wrong with sex, but it’s in a totally different league when you mix in a healthy type of love, one that builds you both up and doesn’t tear you apart inside,” Pulling the plug on the water she starts to put the things I’ve dried up away.  “Of course, some partners are a bit gun shy of the whole physical side of things and that can knock your confidence, a lot, and make you question yourself, but the problem isn’t you, it’s just that they’re not ready yet, so you have to learn patience.”

 

Oh I see what she means by that bit, at least I think I do, “Dad still isn’t putting out huh?”

 

“Nope, and I’m going to have to learn to deal, he is so worth waiting for.  I love him too much to push him.  When he’s ready we will, and I know it’ll be as close to perfect as you get in this imperfect world,” she puts the last dish away as I hang the towel back up.

 

When I look back at her she’s standing there awkwardly, “We’re good right Stiles? I mean looking back we did spring this one on you, we didn’t exactly give you time to adjust, and now I’ve moved in, and,” she waves a hand nervously.

 

“We’re good,” I tell her and we mostly are.  She’s right they did spring this on me, but she makes dad happy and I like her anyway, I always have.

 

“Good, because I’m really not sure how your dad would like to handle the whole sex talk thing, my views aren’t his views and you’re his child, I shouldn’t have stepped in like that, sorry I got carried away.”

 

“It’s okay,” I try to reassure her, “It’s not like I’m dating anyone at the moment, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the last virgin in Beacon Hills anyway.  I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about sex,” because who the hell is ever going to find someone like me attractive, one minute I’m male, the next female, and how the hell do you even have sex if you’re female in a male body?

 

“Oh honey,” Mel steps up to me, “You are going to find someone, it might take you a while, because you’re too special for just anyone, any idiot will not be right for you, but you will find them and you are going to know what it’s like to be in a partnership, and they are going to love you so damn much, or I will hurt them and make them wish they’d never been born,” she sweeps me into a hug.  “You deserve to be happy Stiles, you deserve to be loved so much because you are worth it.”  Her hug turns fierce and I hug her back a bit shocked at her words.

 

“’Kay,” I agree not really believing the words but it makes her let me go. I don’t know why I feel a bit bereft when she does step back.

 

 “Never forget that you are a wonderful human being Stiles,” She jerks her head to the side, “Now I thought you were going out today, remember to rest if you need it, and remember to have fun.”

 

“Okay Mel,” I go to get my shoes, “Have a good shift, I’ll see you tonight.”

 

“I will, drive safely,” Follows me out of the house and to my jeep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise lots of Peter next chapter.


	32. Chapter 32

Opening the apartment door with my key, the key Derek gave me, I bound in to find Peter walking towards me with a smile.  He’s dressed up, smart pants with a crease down each leg that could cut the air, a waist coat to match the pants in dark grey.  He’s also got a pale green shirt and a very snazzy green and grey striped tie.  He even has one of those hanky thinks in the waist coat breast pocket.  It’s not until his fingers mess with the shirt sleeves I realise he has gold and green cuff links that flash in the light.

 

He stops a few feet from me and holds his arms out, then he twirls for me and asks, “Well?  Do you like it?”  His cocky smirk is getting far too familiar to me.

 

I have no words for him right now, he looks amazing, and I suddenly realise I’m not breathing.  Taking a sharp breath in I nod enthusiastically and his smirk gets bigger, “Well it must be good if I managed to steal away your words.  My dear Stiles Stella, I’ll take your silence as the greatest compliment.”

 

Flushing I stand there awkwardly and just stare at him.  He really looks like he just stepped off of one of those modelling magazines where the men are too handsome and out of this world, they can’t possibly be real.  I feel like a very poor last place, like I’m put together all wrong.

 

“Now,” He steps right up to me, his eyes are twinkling and I know they’re blue but right now they’re kind of green too.  “I have kept these back from you, because really if we’re going to match you should have a choice,” and then he holds out a hand to me.

 

Taking his hand I let him lead me to his room and on his bed are clothes I’ve never seen before, “I know you tend to be Stella here the most, after all you don’t get to be that part of you anywhere else, but I also wanted you to know that I really don’t care if you’re Stiles or Stella, you’re still amazing to me.” I can see there is a dress in the same pale green as his shirt, it’s base is flared and there are a few bits on it in the same grey as his pants.  Beside it are a pair of pants in the same grey but they have the pale green worked into them, they’re not quite pinstripe but something more than plain, and the shirt is a soft grey with green stitching, even the tie is worked into the same colour scheme.  Everything is different but designed around the colours and they all match in, they are clearly all the same set.

 

“Peter,” I have no words for this either and I try to force some out anyway, “These are just amazing, seriously, they’re so,” I run out of words and no more sounds come out.  Waving my hands towards him and then the clothes I hope conveys some of what I feel.

 

Chuckling he moves closer and draws me into a hug, “I’m glad you like them so much, I won’t be able to do matching sets for you all the time, not all designs or colours will work, but I will always try to do my best to give you the choice.”

 

Clinging to him I nod and hold on.  Oh god I can’t believe he’s so understanding of me, when I don’t always understand me, but he’s just accepting and open and I can’t believe that I have this in my life.  “Thank you,” comes out a bit more choked up than I intended.

 

“You’re more than welcome,” his hands tighten on my back, “Go and get changed, I still have some serious grovelling to do with you.”

 

“What grovelling?” I’m confused, I can’t think of anything.

 

“When I insulted your first dance lesson,” He says and moves his head to look at me, I never knew Peter could do puppy dog eyes.  “There you were looking like grace and poetry in motion personified and all I did was snarl at you and ruin the moment.”

 

He did ruin my moment completely and I should be angry but apparently I’m easy where he’s concerned, or else it’s the ‘poetry in motion’ comment.  I shrug, “I think I can learn to forgive you Mr Hale if you learn not to crush my attempts at dancing.”

 

“Oh I think I learn that very quickly my dear Miss Stilinski,” the ends of his mouth tip up just a little, “After all if I want to dance with you, I’ll just have to learn patience as Derek teaches you the basics, he is the better ballroom dancer, he was fantastic until he hit his teens and the awkwardness that comes with that,” the image of a very young Derek dancing around a room fills my head.  “He won quite a few competitions too.”

 

“Oh,” There are so many jokes I could make but dancing with Derek was amazing, I didn’t feel like this disaster waiting to happen, we flowed smoothly.

 

“So does this mean I get to make it up to you?  Will you give me a chance to twirl you around the floor soon? Today for example?” Peter goes for the puppy eyes again, that should be so wrong on so many levels, after all this is Peter Hale.

 

But then again.

 

I’ll get to dance with Peter in a very pretty dress and my day has suddenly gotten so much better, “Mr Hale I will happily allow you to engage me with dances today.”  His whole face lights up and my stomach explodes with butterflies and satisfaction.

 

“In that case I will retire to the main area and breathlessly await your company,” He backs off and before I can blink he has my hand in his, “While I am aware that perfection cannot be rushed, I do hope that I will not have to wait too long,” and then he’s gone the door clicking shut behind him.

 

For some reason I want to do a damn victory dance and some kind of scream.  Instead I gather up the dress and underneath it I find new underwear, in pale green of course, and then I head for the shower.

 

Hurrying through the shower I’m soon ready and the dress has wide sleeves that come down to my elbow, a much lower top that I’m used to, it sort of scallops far above where my breasts are, the hem swirls above my ankles, and I love the whole thing.

 

Peeking out of the shower I find his room is still empty so I go to put my wig on and he’s left the hair down this time.  Fiddling with it I step in front of the mirror and Stella stares back at me, this beautiful girl is standing there and while I can see traces of Stiles mostly I see Stella.

 

Going to Peter’s bedroom door I hesitate and gather myself.  Walking into the main room I find him standing in the middle of the room waiting for me.  I mimic him from earlier and walk over to him, then I twirl for him and revel in the way the dress moves around me.  I know the dress isn’t what makes me female, I make me female, or male, but it’s like a mirror that lets me show myself to others.

 

“Oh Stella Stiles Stilinski, you beautiful creature you,” Peter breathes out and it’s like he’s just made my day.

 

“Why thank you Peter, I’m glad you like it, though it seems I was unable to leave you speechless, I believe that makes you more beautiful today,” I have no idea what the hell I’m saying right now.

 

“No Stella, believe me, there are few I could say with complete honesty that are more beautiful than you, and I would never put myself ahead of you, you are perfection made real,” and then he’s lifting my hand up and pressing a kiss to the back of it.  “The fact that I can render you speechless is just a symptom of your perfection,” and that made even less sense but my toes curl anyway.  He tugs gently on my hand so I step closer, “May I have the honour of dancing with you?”

 

“Um, yeah?” Oh god, “I must inform you I don’t know many steps, we did a box and that was it,” I was so proud of being able to do that, but it sounds so stupid right now.

 

“Then we shall do that,” he lets go of my hand so he can go to the sound system and turns on the music.  The music is the same type as Derek was listening to, and then Peter’s back and holding his hand out to me again.

 

Taking his hand I let him pull me into him and this time when I put my left hand on his right bicep, well it’s a lot nicer than Derek’s.  And the hand on my left shoulder blade? I never knew you could feel someone’s hand through clothes like that.  The music swells and just like that we move to the music.  It’s still just the box, and Peter does the thing that means we turn with the steps so when we finish the box we’re no longer in the same place, but it’s different with Peter, really different.

 

A few more turns and boxes and we kind of click, I’m still working hard but we sort of float around the area he’s picked out for dancing.  I can hear the music in the background and I don’t have to count in my head anymore, I just move with it which gives me far more time to realise that Peter’s inner leg brushes mine, or when we get to the end my brushes his, yet we don’t tread on each other’s toes or bash into each other.

 

At no point do our bodies bump together and for some reason I’m getting more and more ridiculously aware of him moving just a few millimetres away from me, so near and yet so far.  His blue eyes with that tint of green hold mine as easily as his hands and arms are holding me, “I was right,” he murmurs.

 

“About?” I ask him a bit confused but I still don’t break stride, I still hold the dance, perfectly.

 

“You are grace and poetry in motion, Miss Stilinski I am truly astounded that you’ve only had one lesson with Derek before this,” He tells me and I nearly trip over my feet in shock, the flush on my face is purely from my almost fall and has absolutely nothing to do with his words.

 

“I assure you I am anything but grace and poetry, or did my little misstep not convince you?” I brush it off and try to hide how good his compliment made me feel.

 

“We all have little missteps,” he shrugs, “The trick is to not let them get you down, own them and move on,” he winces, “Of course some of us just stew in them and let them drive us crazy.” He gives me a superior look, “Now you for example, you own all of your missteps, it’s one of your many endearing qualities, you rarely let things get you down and just keep going, though you learn from your mistakes, you adapt.”

 

I do?

 

“You think I’m endearing?” Pops out before I can stop it and I get to see his whole face light up as he laughs softly, even the edges of his eyes crinkle, and that’s not like Peter, he’s normal so very in control of all of him.

 

“I think you’re utterly endearing, as both Stiles and Stella, you have qualities I wish others would inspire to more often,” and he really thinks I’m endearing.  “Are you blushing my dear Stella?  Surely you’ve worked out that I like you?”

 

Oh my god.

 

Standing still I gape at him and we stop dancing.  Around us the orchestra keeps playing and all I can do is stare at him as things start to drop into place.  The big one was me reacting to the poison he took, me getting sick just like Allison and Lydia did for Scott and Jackson.

 

Peter head tilts slightly to one side as he waits for me to say something and all I can think of is that this is Peter freaking Hale, crazy ex-Alpha werewolf serial killer, he hurt Lydia mentally, he hurt Scott physically and tried to turn him into his little killer puppet, in theory he’s evil, or mostly evil.  And I don’t really care, because it’s Peter.

 

Oh my god.

 

“You’ve already said that Stiles,” Peter says it so calmly, and I watch the shutter come down in his eyes, he’s closing up on me.

 

“So that’s why I can’t stay away from you,” I babble at him, I don’t want him to close up on me, I want him to smile at me, “I’m turning into Allison and Lydia.  Oh god dude am I gonna have to do some last minute intervention thing and save the town, again I might I add, from certain doom, and then we go off and have puppies?  Or not puppies, do werewolves have puppies?” Oh no I’m Stiles now.

 

Opening his mouth to answer Peter closes again and then chuckles, but the ice in his eyes is melting, “No Stiles, you don’t have to do a last minute intervention for me, you’ve already saved the day, several times, and no werewolves do not have puppies.”

 

“Awesome,” I have no idea how to handle this.  The only other people that I’ve ever crushed on never even looked my way, I was less than mud to Lydia and so not on Danny’s radar.

 

For the first time I get to see Peter act uncertain around me, other than the moment when he found out about me, he’s always certain and very hard to surprise, “You really didn’t know? How I felt about you?”

 

Shrugging a bit I add, “No one’s ever looked at me before, no one, why would you?  I just know I want to spend all my time with you.  That I want to be close to you.  To listen to you talk.  I couldn’t wait to get here today because you’d be here.  I just wanted to be with you,” and I trail off and really listen to what I’ve just said, “Oh!”

 

Clearly pleased Peter steps closer, crowding me, “So I was reading you right young Stiles Stella, you do like me, a lot.  And I like you, a lot too.”

 

“Good,” That’s good right?  Oh my god, his face is getting even closer to mine.

 

“Very good,” he breathes and I wait for something, I’m fairly certain he’s going to kiss me and then he pulls back and even takes a few steps back away from me.  “Oh Stiles, you are temptation. I can’t kiss you, not yet.”

 

He can’t?

 

He gives me a very unflattering look, “Stiles, you’re not eighteen yet, when you are we can start dating. Until then we can’t do anything or your father is going to enjoy throwing me in jail to rot for certain Statutory things.” Oh, yeah, that pesky little law thing, stupid California and making eighteen the age of consent.  “So I’m afraid we will have to wait for your birthday and then start dating.”

 

I really want to whine and kick up a fuss, because seriously?  Someone likes me, someone wants to do Statutory things to me, and god that sounds dirty, but the main part is, someone knows me for me, for all of who I am and they like me anyway.  And it’s Peter, and right here and now I just want Peter.

 

But then I remember the conversation I had with Mel this morning and other things finally start making some sense to me, “So,” I puzzle my way through, “We’d have to learn to become friends first then?  Get to know each other, spend time together, and on my birthday I can ask you to be mine?”  Another idea pops into my head, “Why Mr Hale, I believe you will be the best present I could ever have.”

 

“Consider me gift wrapped and waiting for you then,” He drops me a little bow.  “We have a few more months to learn to dance together, though we’ll have to get Derek to teach us how to dance when you’re Stiles as well, I’m sure we can learn to take turns leading.”  I frown at him wondering what he’s talking about, “Stiles, when two men or two women dance, you have to change the steps a little.  That way you can dance as either Stiles or Stella or swap and it won’t matter, we’ll simply do a few changes and we can dance together any time we want to,” and again he offers me that simple acceptance.

 

“Thank you,” I choke a little bit and glance away from him.

 

“You are more than welcome, now shall we dance, or,” he pauses and strings the word out, “We could watch a certain Pride and Prejudice with a certain Colin Firth in it?”

 

That gets my attention and in moments I’m sitting on the sofa, holding hands with Peter, and watching as the fictional Longbourn estate gets very lively when they get unexpected new neighbours.  I know this version so well I can almost chant the words at the same time, other than a quirked eyebrow Peter doesn’t say anything.

 

We have to stop to get lunch ready for the ravenous hordes of Pack that are going to descend on us soon, all four of them, but they’re werewolves so I’m going to pretend they eat more.  And speaking of the ravening horde, they appear as Peter declares the stew ready and then proceed to go and wash.  Predictably Erika and Derek take the longest barely making it in time as Peter is dishing up as they’re still messing with their hair, not that I can talk that much because my longer hair is amazing.

 

We eat, they tell my about their run, and I nearly die of jealousy because I wanted to be out there with them, and then Peter’s knee touches mine under the table and I’m suddenly glad I didn’t go on the run, because I got to stay here with Peter instead.

 

Sticking to Buffy as our afternoon TV we get to see girl power in action as I get to hold Peter’s hand again, and strangely I feel more grounded than I have in years because I’m surrounded by Pack, I’m home.

 

All too soon I have to go home and I reluctantly let go of Peter’s hand so I can go and change.  Pulling on my normal Stiles clothes I stare at myself in the mirror and all I can see is Stiles, which is good I guess, because if I can see Stiles then so will everyone else.

 

No one is home when I pull up outside my house and I go to do some stretches followed by homework.  I’m still behind on my homework but suddenly it’s not so urgent, I don’t mind staying in Beacon Hills if it means I can have friends, family, Pack, Peteer, and no one guesses what I am.

 

With the house echoingly empty I also have all the time in the world to think about Peter and I’m weirdly anxious about him.  Now he’s not here touching me I can see everything that could possibly go wrong, he really is so much older than me, he’s not the most stable cookie when it comes to mental health, he’s killed people, used people, screwed other people over, mentally scarred almost everyone he’s come into contact with, and I’m faced with the horrible reality that if this was a TV show Peter would be the bad guy, the villain.

 

Falling backwards onto my bed I cover my face with my hands and groan.  I’ve pretty much told the guy that I not only want to date him, which I do, I want to do the other stuff too.  I want to get my hands on him and do the Statuary things and I really have no idea how that works with two guys, my porn was as vanilla as I could make it, if dad or anyone else ever peeked they’d never guess I was anything but normal.  God if I don’t know what the hell to do if both participants are male, how the hell am I supposed to know what the hell to do if one of us is male and one of us is female but in a male body?

 

Rolling over I pick a pillow up and cover my head with it, crap how is this my life again?

 

My brain doesn’t just stick at the physical issues of my relationship with Peter, it also helpfully points out that dad is gonna hit the freaking roof when I turn eighteen, I don’t think he’ll care that I’m bisexual, he’ll care that Peter’s so much older and he’s going to be mad at me for hiding it from him. Except I’m not really hiding it, because we’re not doing anything, so there’s nothing to hide, except there really is.  Oh and dad knows all about Peter’s past, he knows what the guy is capable of, and how far he’ll go to get what he wants, because judging him by his actions Peter is one hell of a selfish SOB who’s main goal in life has always seemed to be himself.

 

And that leads me to every single person Peter’s upset, hurt, assaulted, manipulated, and murdered.  I could write a list of them but it’d be faster to write a list of people living in Beacon Hills that don’t have a beef with Peter.

 

Oh my god.

 

Quickly weighing the pros and cons of being in a relationship with him, it’s obvious that I should tell him no and run far, far away.  Only that idea is almost physically painful, the thought of losing Peter makes me feel like I’m about to have a panic attack so I shove it away and concentrate on Peter until I can breathe easily again.  Leaving Peter is so not an option.

 

It makes zero sense to me how I can want him so much, and it’s not just physical, it’s his mind, his humour, his creativity, his smile, his laugh, his sass and snark.  God it’s just him, for some reason he pushes all of my buttons and I want to spend all of my time with him, I want to do everything with him, and finally I understand some of Scott’s idiotic actions with Allison, if this is what love feels like it’s both the most amazing awesome thing in the world, and the most suckiest at the same time.

 

The bang of the front door and dad’s voice snaps me out of it and I decide to deal with the problem the way I deal with most of them, I ignore it for now and pretend it isn’t a problem, maybe it’ll go away or sort itself without any help from me.

 

Being around dad distracts me until bedtime, we bond some more and he’s smiling so fucking much, it’s like we’re back to being father and son, only he doesn’t know I’m sometimes his daughter too.  Another problem I firmly shove away, the less he knows about that the better, if everyone found out it’d destroy this new life we’re building, and I’m never going to let that happen.

 

Getting ready for bed I do more stretches and say goodnight to dad, then I do more stretches as I wait for Peter.  I can tell I’m starting to get out of shape as I bend and twist, I have to start exercising again and soon, I’ll have rebuild my stamina too.

 

A tap on my window gets my attention and I let Peter in.  All my worries and fears melt away now he’s here.  We don’t talk as we go to bed and he aggressively little spoons me, wrapping my arms around him I hold on tightly and let him sooth me.  Having Peter in my arms is heavenly and nothing like the books or movies make it sound, I’m beginning to suspect that love is much harder to do that it looks.  But as Peter drifts off to sleep and I get bombarded with contentment and a soaring fragile happiness it’s totally worth it.


	33. Chapter 33

Waking up to Peter, and an erection, I try to shuffle that away from him, I lay there and I really don’t want to get up and move, or go to school. I want to stay here all day, with Peter, and just snuggle the shit out of him.

 

“Morning,” he murmurs at me showing he knows I’m awake.

 

“Hey,” I murmur back and I don’t whine too much when he moves away, he chuckles at me as he turns over, so that’s not as bad as him leaving.

 

“We should talk,” Has me suddenly wide awake and very worried, words like that on TV tend to come before things like breaking up, or the end of the world.  “I think we need to tell Derek,” Is not what I’m expecting from him.

 

“What?” Seriously what?  “Why?”  Oh god it’s too early in the morning to be thinking anything.

 

“Because he is our Alpha, no matter terrible he is at it, and I’ve been thinking.  Technically we aren’t hiding anything, because we’re not doing anything, but if we come clean now, let everyone freak out about us, by the time we’re both ready for dating, they’ll be so used to the idea they’ll simply embrace the idea,” And he’s serious, like really fucking serious.

 

“Before or after my dad shoots you on sight?” I ask because he clearly hasn’t thought this one through at all.

 

Scrunching up his face he rolls his eyes at me, “I didn’t mean your dad Stiles, not yet anyway.  I meant Derek, then the three teens, we’re around them the most, and in a way they can act like chaperones to us, proving,” he stresses the last word, “To your dad, when we get around to telling him, that we have thought this through and we are taking steps to do it right.”

 

Oh thank god we are not telling my dad yet, that would be a nightmare, “Fine,” I huff the word.  I doubt Peter will listen to me anyway and when this all blows up in our faces, because when doesn’t it, I can at least have the satisfaction of mentally knowing I was right.

 

“Fine,” He mimics me, “I’ll tell Derek today, expect a Derek style fit of epically dramatic proportions, we’ll give him a week or two to deal, then we’ll think about the teens,” so at least he’s not rushing into this too much.  “And the fact I’ve been wearing these horrific nightwear ensembles to help you control your teenage hormones, should also be a point in our favour.”

 

I run his words through my head and then ask, “Wait, so you’ve been wearing those crappy eyesores to make me keep my hands to myself?”

 

He gives me one of his superior looks, “Why else would I be wearing these blights of nature?  I know how devastatingly good looking I am, I’m aware it’s my best feature and after all how else were you going to resist me?”

 

Arrogant much?

 

It also leads me to question him, “You think I want to date you because you’re so good looking?”  He really thinks I’m that shallow?  And yeah I am, but I still have some standards, I mean Jackson’s stunning but no, just no.

 

“Obviously,” he replies and for a few seconds I think he’s joking, only he’s not, he really honestly believes it.

 

“Oh my god, Peter, no. I mean yeah, you are totally hot, but so are half the population of freaking Beacon Hills, I’ve grown up being average I know I’m outclassed by nearly everyone,” I prop myself up on an elbow and gaze down at him, his face is shutting down, he’s shutting me out again.  “Dude, as hot as you are if you didn’t have anything else to back it up I wouldn’t be so damn attracted to you. You’re smart, sneaky, cunning, creative, sassy, snarky, funny, ruthless, and really self-absorbed.  You’re a package deal Peter, the whole thing is what I want, not some two dimension photo shopped hottie from a magazine shoot with zero personality.”

 

And then Peter looks away from me and sort of dips his head, he’s submitting to me, exposing part of his throat, “Your heart stayed steady the whole time,” he murmurs quietly.

 

“Of course it did,” I snort at him and collapse back to the bed, “It kinda does that when I tell the truth.  And I am totally into you Peter, though I’m not blind to your past or your faults, you could still totally be the bad guy, you have that potential in spades.”

 

“I’m not the bad guy,” Is his automatic response to my words and I roll my eyes at him.  “I’m really not Stiles. I still don’t see why you’d think that.”  He’s so offended and a bit wounded.

 

“Um, let’s see, you murdered a bunch of people, and yeah I know WHY you did it, but still not a good guy action.  You Bit Scott, and yeah new Alpha power.  You killed your niece for power.  You nearly drove Lydia insane and don’t get me started on the whole mental bad touch thing you did to her. You come across as evil, sneaky, and creepy. If you had your way you’d still be the Alpha and yes Derek is a shit Alpha, and yeah he Bit three teens, but he’s still a better Alpha than you,” I try and use a calm tone but some of the shit Peter’s pulled has my voice warping in places.

 

He’s stiffened in my arms and not in a good way and now I’m back to the normal snarky Peter, “Well if that’s how you really feel about me,” he twists out of my arms and stands up, “I’ll take my evil, sneaky, creepy self out of your way.”

 

“Whoa, wait,” I struggle to get out of the bed and nearly face plant trying to get to him. Damn graceful bastard is almost ready to do a header out of my open window.  “Peter I’m in love with you, get back here.” Oh god he can’t just leave me, he can’t, “Don’t leave me Peter, please.”  My heart is starting to race and I can feel my throat closing making my breathing difficult.

 

He hesitates partly out of the window and his face is so blank as he stares at me, “You’re in love with me?” He sounds incredulous.

 

“Yes,” I finally make it off the bed and pad towards him, slowly, I don’t want to spook him.  “I’m totally in love with you Peter, it might have taken me a while to realise it, I didn’t think I was that slow to pick up the signs. Sorry. Please don’t leave me,” everyone always leaves me, he can’t leave me, not now, not when I’ve just found him.

 

He pulls his head back into my room and slowly turns towards me, “I’m in love with you too Stiles Stella,” Oh thank god for that, “Do you really think I’m the bad guy?”

 

Uh-oh, I can spot a loaded question, sometimes, “I think you were the bad guy, yeah, I think you could potentially become the bad guy again.  But right now?  No you’re not the bad guy Peter,” his shoulders untense and something inside of me relaxes too.

 

“Good, I never want to be the bad guy to you Stiles Stella, you are worth far more to me than even being an Alpha,” oh my god, I think my jaw just dropped open.  “I should still go though, your dad is waking up, and I have a certain cranky Alpha to corner and talk to.” He moves closer to me and runs a finger over my cheek, “I hope I’ll see you later Stiles Stella, and I hope you have a good day.”

 

Screw everything, I’m not settling for anything short of a hug and I sort of throw myself at him.  Clinging to him like a limpet, I make him cuddle for a few minutes, “Just be careful Peter, you know Derek’s way of dealing with things involves hitting those things, things like you, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

“I promise I’ll be careful,” he tells me and just like that we’ve made up.  Silently I make a promise to myself to try and be more careful of hurting Peter like that.  Hell I’ve been in love with Lydia for years, I know she’s a powerful bitch with no mercy, she verges on evil in some cases, I’m not blind to Peter or what he could turn out to be, but I need to be gentler with him, I can’t drive him off like I just nearly did.

 

“Good, and just so you know I love you,” I reluctantly let him go and I’m scared he’ll leave and he won’t come back, or that Derek’s going to kill him.  “Maybe you and I should go and talk to Derek together, he’ll only push me around, he won’t hit me.”

 

“No,” Peter’s response is instant, “No, I don’t think I’d handle seeing him hurt, the moment he tried to lift a hand against you I’d bite it off,” he even bares his teeth and they’re very sharp and pointy.  “I’ll deal with Derek, at least to start with, and then we’ll tag team him into accepting us.  Besides I’m very confident he’s going to insist on chaperoning us, so he’ll have plenty of time to spend in our company soon enough.”

 

“Peter,” I hesitate, because I really don’t want to upset him, so I clutch at the ugly t-shirt he’s wearing, “I really think this idea of yours sucks, I can see why you think it’s a good idea, but we should keep it to just Derek before we tell anyone else.  They’re really not going to take it well.”

 

“You think we should wait?” He tilts his head, “I’d prefer not telling anyone at all until you’re eighteen, and as much as I’m convince the Pack’s collective IQ doesn’t reach double digits, I know they’re going to be able to put two and two together and then they’re going to freak out even more.  So I too think my plan sucks, but in the long run I’ll get to have you, forever, and that’s something I’m willing to sacrifice for.”

 

Damn him and his melodious voice, “Fine, but I reserve the right to hold ‘I told you so’ above your head.”

 

“Agreed, and I’m worried just how much you’ll be able to do that to me,” he sighs, “Now I really do have to go, your father is getting up,” and then he dives out the window.

 

Closing my window I race my dad for the shower and scrape in their first, only then do I let myself fall apart a little. I nearly lost Peter, he nearly left me, god I’m so fucking stupid sometimes.  Shaking I fumble washing myself and I think I got most of me, if not that’ll have to do for now.  Faking being normal I go and get dressed and then freak out on my bed.  Jesus, Peter was partly out of the window before I got him to stop, he was that close to being gone.

 

Rubbing my face with my hands I feel the adrenaline drain from my body, suddenly all those stupid stunts teens do for love are making more sense to me, you’d do almost anything to keep the one you love.  Normally I’d only care about my dad, Scott, Mel, Lydia and recently Allison.  From how I’m reacting about Peter it seems I’ve added him to the list too and he’s pretty much topping the list at number one.

 

Exhausted I grab some clothes and put them on, then I make myself do some homework as I listen to dad getting ready, he pops his head around the door, “Hey Stiles, I’ve got to go, I’ve got this evening off and Mel has the day off, so you up for some family bonding time later?”  He looks a bit hopeful and I take that as a good sign, because before he just wanted to stay as far away from me as possible.

 

“Yeah, sounds good dad,” Earns me a giant smile and he says his goodbyes before going to Mel’s room.  The soft pitch of their voices is soothing and I make some more notes before dad has to leave and Mel gets up.

 

“Hey kiddo,” She’s leaning against my door frame and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

 

“Morning, I thought you were planning to sleep in today?” She still has to rest a lot even though the stitches are out.

 

“Yeah, well, my stupid body clock knows you need to eat before school, so I’m up to cook you breakfast,” my stomach rebels at the thought of food and I am far more wound up about Peter and Peter telling Derek than I thought I would be.  “Oh I know that look,” she walks into my room and puts her hand on my forehead, “Well you don’t have a temperature, but you’ve gone really pale, how do you feel?”

 

“I’m good,” I lie to her, “Really, it was just the thought of food,” oh god my stomach really doesn’t like me right now.

 

“Hmm, okay, but you keep me updated today and I’m telling Jon, you need to go off sick you tell us, okay?”  She does the stern mom look and I lean back a bit, she can be really scary sometimes.

 

“Okay,” I agree.

 

“In that case I’ll make myself some breakfast and get ready to go back to bed and sleep, stupid injuries taking their sweet time to heal,” she grumbles and shuffles off.

 

Shaking my head I go back to my notes and when my phone alarm beeps I get ready to bolt for the door, only the front door bell goes as I’m bounding down the stairs.  “I got it,” I yell out so that Mel can finish her breakfast in peace and then go for a nap.

 

Not bothering to check to see who’s on the other side I swing the door open, for a horrible second I think it’s going to be Derek coming to confess he murdered Peter, except it’s not Derek, but it is a werewolf.

 

“Hi Stiles, I’m home,” it’s Scott.  Scott’s standing on our porch with Allison just behind him.


	34. Chapter 34

Stunned I gape at him and just stand there.  He’s supposed to be way across the country in another Pack getting better.  Snapping out of it slightly I take note of all the changes in him.

 

“You cut your hair,” I point out lamely because he does not look good.  Even with human hearing I can hear the slight wheeze is back when he breathes, he used to do that before he was a werewolf and he was too tired or when he was recovering from another asthma attack.  He’s lost weight, his normally dusky skin is sallow and he needs to get out in the sun more.

 

“Yeah,” he nods and looks over my shoulder, “Can I come in?  I’m really tired, we’ve been travelling all night to make it back here.  I can hear my mom in the kitchen, I can smell her too,” he sort of perks up, “I didn’t realise how much I’d miss home, it’s good to be back.”

 

Oh mother of god.

 

Mel is going to freak out that Scott is back, the last time she saw him he was Feral and was going to kill her.  It took both Derek and Peter to subdue him and save her life.  She’s still getting over her injuries.  Does Scott even know what he did to her?

 

Allison should remember everything, even if Scott has holes in his memory, she should realise this is not going to go well, flicking my eyes at her I blurt, “You cut your hair too?”

 

“Yes,” she reaches up and tugs at the much shorter hair, “Easier to take care of,” she looks tired too, drained.  Part of me is cataloguing them and measuring them from how they used to be, and part of me is mourning that long twisty hair, god it was amazing, it still is, it has this bounce to it now, maybe I could try out a few wigs that are shorter than shoulder length.

 

“Stiles,” Mel says from behind me in the house, “Who’s at the door?”  I don’t even have time to warn her because she’s there and I can see the second she recognises Scott as she goes pale and the dish she’s holding slips from her fingers to crash to the floor.  “No,” and then she’s gone.

 

“Mom!” Scott calls out and moves forward as if to follow her, I hold my hand up to stop him, he glares at me a bit, “Dude, let me past, that’s my mom, something’s wrong.”

 

“Scott,” Allison is there, “Maybe we should let Stiles handle it, he can call my dad too, let everyone know we’re back.”

 

“But,” it’s almost a whine, “Allison, it’s my mom, and she was afraid of me, again.”

 

“Scott,” God I do not have the time or patience right now, “I’ll go, you two stay out here, I’ll call Mr Argent, my dad, and Derek, and then you can sort this whole thing out.”  I don’t give him time to agree I just slam the door in his face and then go to find Mel while dialling Mr Argent, I can’t believe I have a hunter on my speed dial.

 

“Stiles,” Mr Argent’s voice is his normal hard, but calm, passive aggressive.

 

“Hey Mr Argent. Good morning, Scott and Allison are on our porch, right this second, I’m just going to go sit with Mel while you, dad, and Derek get here.  And yes you were the first person I called,” then I hang up on him because he never says goodbye anyway.

 

Reaching the top of the stairs I dial dad and make my way to the spare room.  The door is closed so I’m guessing that’s where Mel is.  I knock on the door, “Hey its Stiles, I left Scott and Allison outside on the porch, and Mr Argent is coming over, I’m just calling dad, can I come in please Mel?”

 

The phone stops ringing and dad answers, “Stiles, something wrong?”

 

“Dad, yeah, kinda, Scott and Allison are here, on the doorstep, outside.  As in here in Beacon Hills,” I tell him just as the bedroom door opens and Mel lets me in the spare room.  She goes back to huddling on the edge of the bed, I close the door behind me and go join her.  Slinging an arm over her shoulders I give her a one armed hug as she literally trembles.

 

After some silence dad says, “Stay right there, I’m coming back.  You stay safe Stiles.  Oh Christ, Mel, how is Mel holding up?”

 

“I’m sitting with her in the spare room,” I tell him and give her a nod, “I’ve also called Mr Argent, and I’m going to call Derek.  We’ll be right here waiting for you dad.”

 

“Okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll be there, and for god’s sake stay safe, the pair of you, I love you, both of you,” I can hear the siren being switched on, he must still be in the car.

 

“Okay, you drive safe dad, we love you too,” I hang up to let him concentrate and start dialling Derek.  He never says hello, it’s always silent down the phone so I start up with, “Hey Derek, its Stiles.  Just to let you know that Scott and Allison are both here, right now, this second on our porch.  I’ve phoned Mr Argent and my dad and now you. Don’t suppose you could come over with Peter?”

 

I get more silence and then, “Are you and Melissa okay?”

 

“We’re sitting upstairs, together,” I don’t mention the trembles.  “Just waiting for people to turn up.”

 

“We’ll run over, it’s faster,” and the line goes dead, he’s even worse that Mr Argent and I didn’t think that was possible.

 

“Rude,” I mutter at my phone and I start to babble, “So I wonder who’s going to make it here first?  Dad has the sirens to cut through traffic, but the wolves can, you know, run, on all fours which always looks kind of funny, but neat, and they are fast.  Then there’s Mr Argent.  I know he has that big car but he tends to turn up in the strangest places so maybe he can, I don’t know, teleport, that would be a cool power to have.”

 

Mel just nods and straightens up, “I think it’s going to be your father.  Okay,” she stands up and the trembles stop, though her hands aren’t completely steady.  “I’m going to make drinks for people, can you let Scott and Allison in please, the three of you can sit in the living room until the others get here,” she gives me a wobbly smile, “And then you’re going to school.”

 

“But,” I try and she crosses her arms, I fake grumble as we go downstairs and I wait for her to go into the kitchen before I let Scott and Allison in.  They’re still waiting on the porch.  “Okay, you can come in now.  We can sit in the living room and Mel’s making us drinks.”

 

For a few seconds Scott looks like he’s going to argue but then his shoulders slump and he slinks into the house.  Allison pats my shoulder as she passes me and we’re soon sitting down in an awkward silence.

 

Breezing in Mel’s made us drinks and she sits down right next to me and she avoids looking at Scott.  Scott is gazing at his mom and acting like he’s upset.  Allison has her arm slung around Scott’s shoulders and is doing her best to comfort him.  I have no idea what I’m supposed to do and slurp my drink just to break the silence. I’m not good with silences.

 

Scott’s head jerks up and he tilts it listening intently, “Derek’s here with someone else.”

 

“I’ll let him in,” Mel all but bolts from the room though I notice she also winces and grips her side so she must have moved too fast.  A few minutes later I hear the front door open and lowered voices I can’t make out, though I recognise Peter’s voice at one point and perk up a bit, then I want to mentally bang my head on the wall because Peter could easily exasperate the whole situation.

 

Peter’s the first to come into the room and he eyes up the pair of teenagers before sitting on chair like he owns the place, “Hello Scott,” he’s got a little smile playing on his face and it worries me.  “I have to say you’re looking a little under the weather.  Florida didn’t agree with you?”

 

Derek and Mel have come back in and both of them glare at Peter but Allison says, “He’s better than he was, he’s putting weight back on, and now he’s not being poisoned he’s not a danger to everyone.  And no Florida didn’t agree with us.  It’s a nice place to visit but not to live, not for us.”

 

Luckily we don’t have to add anything because all three werewolves look up and Derek tells us, “It’s Jon,” and when did he end up on a first name basis with my dad?  “He’s just turned the sirens on his car off.”  Oh good, at least the neighbours won’t complain about the noise, “And Chris is right behind him.”

 

Mel gets up to let them in and we get to sit there some more.  Peter checks his nails and seems totally unconcerned, Derek is being extra broody and is already hunching his shoulders.  By the time dad and Mr Argent make it here, with the surprise addition of Dr Deaton I’m fully Stella just to survive not only sitting still but not blurting out too many things.

 

Sniffing the air Scott is giving me confused looks, “Stiles?  Why do you smell like Peter?  And why does Peter smell like you?  And there’s something else, you smell different for some reason.”

 

Stiffening in my seat my mind goes blank when Peter drawls, “Perhaps because we’re Pack?  And Stiles is the only smart one of the group, besides we like some of the same TV programs.”  Scott is so busy being suspicious of Peter than he doesn’t notice the unimpressed expression on Derek’s face.

 

Dad and Mr Argent chose that moment to walk in and they hover as Dr Deaton says, “Scott.  I’m here to give you a quick examination, just to determine the amount of poison still in your blood.  If you could stay as calm as possible I’d appreciate it.”

 

“Okay, but the Emissary said my body was clean of toxins, I just need time to heal as much of the damage as I can.  She said some of it would be permanent but wasn’t sure how much,” Scott sits still as the vet pulls out a stethoscope and starts to listen to his chest.

 

“Well that’s good then,” the vet says, “I’ll just duplicate a few of the tests and we can move on.”

 

“Speaking of moving on,” Mel says and crooks her finger at me, “Time for school Stiles.”

 

“But,” Gets me nowhere and I get sent off to school.  I also get a chorus of goodbyes and strangely Derek escorts me to my jeep.  “I know how to drive Derek,” I watch as he opens the driver’s side door for me and I hop in.

 

He doesn’t close the door he sort of lingers and looks extra uncomfortable, “Peter said some things this morning, I want you to tell me if I need to explain some things to him, in detail.”

 

“What?” I stare at him and then shake my head, “No, no explaining anything, we talked about the things and wanted to make sure you knew about the things.” Damn I can’t just come out and say what I mean, Scott’s hearing is too good.  I take my phone out and tap out a quick message, “I’m too young for us to do anything.  And we don’t want to hide anything.”

 

Reading the text Derek just says, “If you ever change your mind, if you ever feel pressured, if you need anything, you come to me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” I can’t believe he’s taking this so well, and maybe Scott appearing when he did is a minor blessing in disguise.  “We also thought you might be joining us more?  I was hoping for more dance lessons and stuff.”

 

Surprised Derek nods and I’m finally allowed to leave for school, well to be late for school.  I have to park at the back and I drag my feet on the way in.  Signing in I tell them to call my dad as there was a small family thing, I’ll leave it up to him to explain to the school.

 

Between lessons I fill Isaac, Erika, and Boyd in on the Scott situation.  “And then Mel made me come to school so I don’t know what’s going on now.”

 

Isaac stiffens next to me and then I get to hear Jackson’s unpleasant tones behind me, “So McCall’s back in town then.”

 

Turning around I see he has his arm around Lydia and Danny’s on the other side of her.  “Yeah,” I repeat the same information for them.  “No idea what decisions are being made right now,” except I know if the three adults all gang up Derek will crumble and Peter won’t be able to protect him. “I’m hungry, I didn’t have any breakfast, who’s up for lunch?”

 

Sniffing the air Jackson’s face screws up, “Okay so that explains the air of loser surrounding you, but why do you stink of Peter?  God it’s like you rolled in him or something.”

 

I use the excuse Peter used on Scott, “We’re Pack, we spend a lot of time together, it happens,” It’s not a complete lie so my heart shouldn’t skip.

 

“Yeah sure that’s the reason,” Jackson glares at me, “So that’s why you reacted to his level of poisoning, why you protected him at the meeting, why your eyes follow him all the time,” I didn’t know I did that, damn I have been slow.  “And why your scent changes so much and so radically, it’s almost girly.”

 

Oh god.

 

I go to shrug off his accusations but he uses his freaky werewolf speed to grab me by the shirt and drag me into the closest empty classroom.  The other three werewolves, Lydia and Danny are hot on our heels and all of them are upset at Jackson until he says, “So Stiles, or should I call you ‘Stella’, how long have you been screwing Peter?  And does he know what a little freak of nature you are?  A girl trapped in a boy’s body?  Gotta say you had me fooled for a while but I’m better at smelling things now, and it’s so obvious when you know what to sniff for.”


	35. Chapter 35

I know what I should be doing, I should be scoffing and laughing at Jackson’s words, I should be showing how off the mark he is, playing it off as a joke. Instead I freeze in place and stare at him.  This is so not the time for my Stella side to come out.

 

“How do you get fucked by him?” Jackson sneers it and as he’s still holding my shirt he shakes me, gently for a werewolf, but hard enough to rattle my teeth.  “You take it up the ass?  It’s not like you even have the right hole or equipment, or does he just not give a shit, because any port in a storm, is that how it is Stella?”

 

The sound of flesh striking flesh is loud in the otherwise quiet classroom, though my palm starts stinging and I know I’ve not even hurt Jackson, stupid werewolves, and stupid me for reacting like that.  “Let go of me Jackson,” I almost growl it at him.

 

“Why?” He smirks at me and adds, “If your standards are that low, if you’d let Peter Hale of all people fuck you, does that mean you’ll whore out to anyone?”  Considering all the shit he pulled to become a werewolf I can’t believe he just said that, and then his hands are on my chest and he squeezes, “Kinda flat chested there aren’t you Stella.”

 

Oh my god.

 

I don’t even think, I might not have a lot of coordination, to the point the self-defence teachers at the station tended to give up on me, but I can, and do, knee Jackson in the balls, hard.  He gives a surprised grunt and crumples to the ground holding his balls.

 

Erika is suddenly by my side, her arm curls around my waist and she pulls me back from the fallen werewolf.  Isaac and Boyd converge on Jackson even as Lydia puts things together, “Stiles is transgender?  Stiles is a girl?”  She stares at me incredulously and then adds, “Peter Hale?  Really Stiles?  After everything he’s done?  All the people he’s hurt?  You’d really let him touch you?”  She looks disgusted and I don’t know if it’s because I’m sometimes a girl or because of Peter.  I have no idea how to defend myself, no one was supposed to find out about me.

 

“Back off,” Erika really does growl that at Lydia, “Like Jackson is sweetness and light.  Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to kill myself because of him, because of you?  You and the others were so busy laughing at me when I’d have fits, you never asked if I was okay, if I need an ambulance, if I wanted the world to see me pissing myself on YouTube.  So don’t act all sanctimonious.  If Stiles and Peter get their act together and start dating I don’t care, I just want Stiles to be happy.”

 

Of all the people in the room to talk Boyd does, “They’ve been dancing around each other for a while.  They’ll get there when they’re ready.”  Isaac just nods and I have to wonder how the whole Pack knew before me, I’m not normally that stupid.

 

Holding his claws up Isaac studies them and then looks down at Jackson, “You know I made my Pack mate a promise.  And I fully intend to keep it,” he slashes down and I can’t see exactly what he’s done but Jackson makes another pained noise.  “You hurt my Pack mate, I hurt you.”

 

“Stop it,” Lydia surges forward and pushes Isaac, he sways slightly but stays where he is.  “Leave him alone.”

 

“Nope,” Boyd’s claws are fully extended too, “We’ll drag him out back somewhere and beat him until he behaves.”

 

“Then you leave me no choice,” Lydia pulls out a little pepper spray, none of the three wolves are taking her seriously but I have a really bad feeling, this is Lydia after all.  I was right to be worried as she sprays both of them and they back off scrubbing at their faces.  “I might not be a werewolf but I can fight back against you. Weaponized wolfsbane in a can. Brains over brawn.”  Oh my god, she is magnificent, she just took down two werewolves, and damn it they were on my team.

 

Erika steps in front of me snarling and not getting close to Lydia who simply holds up the can with a superior look.  On the floor Jackson uncurls and glares at me with glowing blue eyes, “You bitch, I can’t believe you did that.”

 

“You pawed me, mutt,” I snark back, “Not my fault my knee defended me.”

 

“I’m going to do a hell of a lot more than that,” He gets to his feet slowly, “I’m going to tell the whole school what you are, you think you can just wander in and take my place on the Lacrosse team?  Miss MVP.  Once they know you’re a girl you’ll be booted off the team.  You think your loser like existence was bad before?  You just wait.” It’s his turn to snarl.  “What’s your dad going to do when he finds about you, and that you’re screwing Peter, a guy too old for you, a guy that’s going to jail for Statutory Rape.  He’ll rot in jail the way he always should have, he’ll pay for what he did to Lydia, for the nightmares she has.  He’ll spend the rest of his life in some hellhole prison cell and Lydia will never have to be afraid of him again.”

 

No, god no.

 

No one can find out about me, no one, it’ll destroy the life dad’s been building, he’s getting on top of work stuff, he has Mel, and we were just starting to bond again.  “No,” I choke it out, “No.”

 

Not only will my life be essentially over if he tells, he’s also threatening Peter, they’ll put Peter in jail and he’s a werewolf, it won’t end well, not well at all.

 

“Yes,” Jackson gets that look on his face, the same one he’s had for years, the one that says he’s won, again, that he’s better than everyone.  “Freak.”

 

“You really think you’ll get away with it?” Erika’s practically shaking.  “You?  You think you can just destroy people and keep getting away with it?  I’ll tell them all how you couldn’t cope with getting beat by Stiles, how you made everything up because you’re too weak and imperfect to be on top.  I’ll ruin you, I’ll destroy you, I’ll make you suffer.”

 

“But that won’t stop them all knowing about Stella,” Jackson points out, “That won’t stop them putting Peter in prison where he belongs.  My parents can afford to home school me, to pay my college fees, the rest of you are going to be stuck in this nowhere town with no prospects and everyone is going to know the Stilinski kid is a freak of nature.  A girl, a stupid little girl who thought she could fool people into treating her like a boy, instead of the nothing that she is.”

 

The sound of a throat clearing has us all jumping and turning our heads to see both Mr Harris and Miss Morrell standing at the door.  Mr Harris is frowning and studying the room, “What is going on in here?”

 

Oh god, no, please no.

 

Clicking the mostly closed door fully shut Mr Harris repeats the question.  “Someone tell me what’s going on this second.”

 

I watch as Jackson opens his mouth and there’s nothing I can do to stop him, no clever plan to save me, my brain is blank and it’s over, I’ve lost, “I was just telling Stella Stilinski how I’m going to tell her dad, and everyone else in this town, about her being a girl. Oh and she’s screwing a thirty something creepy ex-coma patient, so her dad is going to want to arrest the guy, at least until her dad gets fired because of her.”

 

“Stella?” Mr Harris keeps frowning, “You mean Stiles.”

 

Closing my eyes I rest my head on Erika’s shoulder and listen to Jackson say, “No, she was hiding as Stiles, she’s really Stella, she’s transgendered,” I should be deflecting at this point, I should be running interference, and Erika does try but it’s over, it’s all over, I’ve lost.  Jackson really is going to tell everyone, my life is pretty much over now.

 

I’m not totally stupid, I didn’t believe Peter about all of it.  I did have periods of swiping his laptop, or Isaac’s.  I know what’s going to happen to me now, it doesn’t matter than I’m Bigendered, that I’m technically considered gender fluid or queer and not Trans, no one will care, no one will listen, and I’ve single handledly wrecked my dad’s career, Mel’s career, any chance at college for me.  My chances of suicide just jumped massively, as did substance abuse, and since I won’t be able to get a job because of how I was born I’ll probably end up breaking the law, probably through prostitution.

 

Everything I touch I end up breaking.  I remember the hallucination at Lydia’s party, it wasn’t lying, it told me the truth.  I helped kill my mom, I wore her down, I drained her.  Now I’ll end up killing my dad.  All my life I’ve never fitted in, I tried to blame the ADHD, but it’s just me.

 

The problem has always been me.

 

Scott might have been poisoned and was in the middle of turning Feral, but I noticed no one cared about me when he pushed me away, everyone focused on him, they usually do, he’s better than me.  And now he’s back.  He’s not Feral anymore, he’s recovering from the poisoning, he’ll be awesome Scott again, the same Scott my dad trusted over me.

 

People always love Scott.

 

Hell even Derek had a bit of a boner for him for a while, he was desperate to have him in his Pack, to be his brother.  Peter picked Scott to Bite, he might have given me a choice and respected that, but he took Scott and didn’t fight to get me in his Pack.  Isaac was on his way to replacing me in the bro department before Scott was poisoned. The others in the Pack have all shown a preference for Scott in the past, and they’ve never really liked me that much. Erika smacked me in the face with a car part without a thought.  Lydia’s ignored me my whole life, I’ve never been good enough for her to even acknowledge, though that might have been the slightly creepy stalking thing I had going on.  Danny didn’t want anything to do with me until Jackson cut him out of his life and I stopped being Stiles.

 

All I can think of, as Mr Harris sends Isaac and Boyd to the nurse to have their eyes checked, is that if I didn’t exist things would be better for everyone.  This giant bomb that Jackson is about to drop doesn’t have to destroy my family and friends.  If I’m not here then it will blow over really quickly.  If I’m gone people can get on with their lives.

 

Latching onto that thought I zone out as Danny starts yelling, I’ve never heard him shout before, he’s always so calm.  Guess that’s another thing I’ve screwed up.  Erika’s arm is still around me and she sort of propels me forward, I follow her directions and I’m vaguely aware that my breathing isn’t steady, I’m verging on a panic attack, I can’t have a panic attack, not yet, I have to go first, I have to leave.

 

Leaning into Erika I let her steer me and then we’re sitting down in a room, Erika pressed up against my side.  It’s all this blur and then Erika is leaving me and my side is cold.  Lifting up my knees I wrap my arms around them and huddle in the chair.

 

Someone sits next to me and a finger prods me, turning my head I can see its Lydia, “Stiles, Stiles.”

 

Blinking at her I murmur, “Lydia.”  She says some things, I don’t bother listening, her voice is pleasant though and I let it wash over me.  I might be numb right now but part of me is planning and planning hard.  I’m seventeen, I haven’t graduated, the number of jobs open to me are limited at best.  I don’t kid myself that this Jacksongate is going to end well, I’m not one of the two mainstream genders, my options have just gotten taken away from me.  The only thing I can do for my dad, for Mel, for the Pack, is to get as far away from them as I can. It won’t be pretty for them but it will blow over. They will survive this.

 

I just needed a bit more time, I just needed to hide a little longer, to graduate, to leave Beacon Hills for college, to go live somewhere far away and have my dresses hidden right at the back of my wardrobe under lock and key.  I’d probably spend the rest of my life utterly alone, but I’d live it quietly, dad wouldn’t suffer, no one would suffer because of me.

 

Now I don’t have the luxury of graduating, of a college degree.  I’ll be lucky to get minimum wage after I turn eighteen, and if anyone digs into my past I won’t even get minimum wage, I’ll have to run again, I’ll have to keep moving

 

“Stiles,” Lydia’s finger is digging into my arm, “Are you even listening to me?”  She’s mad at me, she’s always mad at me, she’s as self-absorbed as Peter is, I wonder if either of them realise how similar they are.  Of course Lydia isn’t an ex-Alpha ex-homicidal supernatural creature of mass death and destruction.

 

“No, sorry Lydia, too caught up in myself and how my life is now literally over, you were saying?” I zone out again but make myself nod now and again.

 

“Stiles,” she digs me with her finger again, “Pay attention,” she has the expression that means she’s really getting pissed right now, usually she only uses it on Jackson, or really dumb teachers.

 

“No,” I stand up and look over at the receptionist, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

 

“Okay, don’t be long,” the woman nods her head and carries on typing.

 

“Stiles!” Lydia calls my name but I ignore her and keep walking, the door blocks off part of her voice as I amble down the corridor to my locker.

 

The empty hallways are nice, no one to get in my way, no one to yell at me, no one to see me as I stop at my locker.  Opening it I take my wallet out of my pants and slip the cash out of it, then I leave my wallet in my locker.  Next I take my phone out and text the only person I can think of that might do what I want, “Hey, pls take care of my dad, mel, and peter. Ty for teaching me to dance. Bye.” I don’t sign it and press send.  Turning off the phone I put it in my locker too and close it up.  Locking it, because I don’t want people stealing stuff before dad can get to it to sell any of it, I pat the locker and leave.

 

Wandering out into the weak sunshine I jog down the steps and head south and east.  I’ll have to stay off the roads, go cross country, try and find streams to drink out of, I should be good on the food front for a few days. I have to put as much distance between me and Beacon Hills as I can.  When Jackson’s news hits dad has to be seen as not knowing about me, he has to be surprised, maybe do a half-hearted search for me, though Scott’s home so he might not bother.  Anything to appear as if he didn’t know about me, ignorance in this case might help mitigate some of the damage.  As for Peter, I’m sure he’ll scheme his way out of it, he’s too smart not to play the system somehow.

 

I’m still out of shape from the poisoning so I have to take breaks from jogging by walking, it’s slowing me down.  The monotonous repetition of moving helps to keep me calm and keeps the pending panic attack away.  I can feel the attack circling me, waiting to strike the moment I think too hard or too long.

 

Only the darkening of the sky lets me know how long I’ve been going, I mostly ignore the ache in my body, it’s too distant for me to notice.  I’m on the edge of the preserve now and getting deeper, there are predators here, but I probably still smell like Peter, they’ll keep their distance.

 

The waning moon filters down, a few beams of silver light illuminate the bare minimum for me to keep going, my eyes adjust to the dark to a point.  It’s not enough to stop me tripping over things and I’m forced to slow down to a walk, either that or I’ll break my neck.  The idea of dying has a lot of appeal, but I’m not quite ready yet, maybe I’ll change my mind, it’s not like anyone will find me out here.

 

If they really cared about me the werewolves would have been here by now.  They’re faster than me, tireless, they can see in the dark, and they can track me easily by scent.  So no werewolves means Jackson has dropped his bomb and they’re all trying to survive, I’m now surplus to requirements.

 

I keep moving.

 

Moving is good.

 

Eventually it stops being dark and I splash through a stream.  I stop long enough to drink plenty, dehydration is going to be a big problem. I should have bought a water bottle from the school vending machine before leaving.  I’ll just factor that into my plans.

 

I walk for a while, then I start adding small short jogs in.  I’m tired, I haven’t slept yet.  I’ll have to stop tonight to sleep.  I’ll also have to keep my eyes peeled for more water.

 

The simplicity of my goals is strangely freeing.  Is this why people go ‘back to nature’?  Forget all the things that used to be problems in your life, now it comes down to live or die, to live you need water, food, and shelter.  Lack them and you die, in some cases faster than others.

 

Moving on and I’m forced to slow down again, my legs ache, even at full health I won’t be able to go this long without a rest, but a rest is bad right now, that pesky panic attack is still out there, waiting for me to realise just what I’ve lost. I press on.

 

The sound of water penetrates my daze and I deviate to refuel my body.  Water is needed to keep me functioning as efficiently as possible, most of me is made up of water and I can’t afford to lose too much of it.  Kneeling by the stream I drink as much as I can, and then I glance up to see yellow mushrooms growing at the base of a tree.

 

One of my many obsessions has been fungi.  To the point that mom sent me on a course because I didn’t understand how some of them could kill me.  The guide was awesome and showed us all how to check for certain common mushrooms in our area.  The guide also showed us some similar looking ones that would make us sick.  Sometimes the differences were very subtle.

 

I check the mushroom out.  It’s a uniform egg yellow, funnel shaped and fairly meaty.  It could be a golden chanterelle.  I check the underside to see how the gills sit and where they stop, how deep they are.  Picking the mushroom I sniff it and get a faint apricot smell.  In theory it’s edible.  I wash it and nibble a tiny edge of it, the mild taste of pepper fills my mouth so I bolt the rest of it.  I leave the others growing there alone.  Best to be on the safe side, if it’s a false chanterelle it’ll upset my stomach, if it’s not then I have some food to keep me going.

 

Getting up I start walking again.

 

Alternating jogging and walking I stop twice to pee, that’s a good sign, I have enough water in my body to expel waste.  I keep going, using my watch, the angle of sun, I stay on my heading, I’m not completely convinced I’m going the right way, but away is better than back.

 

It starts getting dark again.  I need to rest soon, I don’t want to rest, but I need to rest.  My body will die if I don’t rest.  Before it gets too dark, I curl up by the roots of a tree and close my eyes.

 

I must have been tired because I jolt awake in the darkness, cold and aching I rub my face, I was dreaming someone was howling faintly in the distance.  Shaking my head for being so stupid, I get up, my body protests and threatens to cramp on me, I ignore it and start walking again.  It’s getting light and I stop to pee, there’s isn’t that much urine and it’s getting darker in colour, I’ll need to drink and soon.

 

Carrying on I listen to the forest around me, I would have thought the few birds out would stop singing as I pass them by, but they ignore me like I don’t exist, which is fairly accurate as I feel like a ghost right now, transparent and see through.

 

It’s obvious when they all go quite, the forest goes eerily silent around me, I freeze next to a tree and strain my own ears trying to listen for the reason.  I can’t hear anything and then a howl rips into the silence, another one answers it.  They’re close, really close.  So close that a shape barrels out of the new spring undergrowth seconds later.

 

It’s Peter.

 

He gets up from all fours and wipes his hands in front of him,  he’s very dishevelled and there’s old dried blood covering the front of his shirt, “Ah, there you Stiles Stella.  You’ve lead me on quite the merry chase.”

 

All I can think is that I really shouldn’t have eaten that mushroom, Peter’s back in Beacon Hills.  He’s not standing in front me taking a small backpack off and rummaging around in it, “Oh good, I didn’t lose anything running after you.”

 

And then Derek bounds into view and stalks towards me, “Stiles Stella.”

 

Wow, that was so the wrong mushroom to take.

 

The waiting panic attack decides to pounce because I can’t block out that I’ve just lost, everyone that I love, and who knew I’d added Derek to that list.  My heart starts palpitating, my breath tightens in my chest, my legs finally get to cramp on me as I fall to the ground, and a wave of certainty crashes over me. I’m miles away from help and I’m going to die, I’m going to die alone in a forest hallucinating that Peter and Derek are here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all that have commented, reviewed, given kudos, favourited, subscribed, and everything else.
> 
> PS They’ll be a mini filler chapter tomorrow, just a tiny little one.


	36. Chapter 36

 

“Breathe,” Peter keeps saying, but I can’t force the air in, or out.  My heart is all over the place.  My other muscles are cramping up and protesting their overuse.  I’m cold so very cold.  And I’m going to die.  “You’re not going to die Stiles Stella.”  He sounds so certain.

 

“Stiles isn’t calming down,” Derek is also here, he’s kneeling next to me.  And then he sort of pulls me into his lap and wraps himself around me.  “We’re here Stiles, we’re here.  You’re not alone.  Pack is never alone.”

 

He’s only a hallucination, he’s not real, not here, I’m all alone and I’ve ruined everything.  I’ve lost everything.  I’ve lost my dad.  I’ve lost Peter.  I’ve lost everyone.

 

“Well that isn’t good, Stiles just got worse,” Peter says and then he wraps himself around my front.  “Stiles Stella, hold on, hold on.  Panic attacks only last on average ten to twenty minutes, so you hold on and ride it out.  Or better yet, hang onto us, and let us help you break out of it.”

 

Clinging to them I do hold on, he’s right, it will pass, or I’ll die.  I’m fine with either option, though death would be easier.  The attack builds and builds until I know I’m not going to come down again.  The pain grows faster than the attack, and then suddenly the pain drains away, it leaves me struggling under the weight of the attack.  An attack that follows the same path as the pain and ebbs away leaving me drained and exhausted.

 

I’m normally cold after an attack but I’m really warm right now, like I’m surrounded by a heater that’s kicking out enough warmth to melt all the ice left on the ice caps.  One part of the heater moves and something wet touches my lips, I try to gulp the water down but someone urges me to drink slower, since they’re not giving me the water otherwise Il do as I’m told.

 

“There, you drank the whole bottle, that’s good Stiles Stella,” it sounds like Peter, “Sleep, you must be exhausted, I’ll carry you.”

 

“I’ll carry Stiles Stella,” Derek’s voice says, “You’re bleeding again, you pulled the wounds open while you were running.”

 

“Well it’s not my fault I got shot several times.  Stiles Stella’s dad is a surprisingly good shot, nice to know my tax dollars are being well spent. If I actually paid any taxes,” Is the snarky response. “If you drop Stiles Stella,” that is a bit threatening.

 

“I won’t drop Stiles Stella, let’s get moving, we have a way to go,” And then my cushion is moving and I whine as I slide a bit, only to be caught in strong arms as the world shifts around me.  The motion of the world probably means I’m being carried, the hard muscly shoulder under my cheek lets me know its Derek.

 

Rocked gently I doze off and decide to rest while I can.  Time enough to face reality later.  For now I can pretend I’m with Pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See told you it was a mini one… sorry next update is the regular Sunday one.


	37. Chapter 37

Warm and safe I stretch out and try to wiggle closer to Peter.  He grunts slightly as I wrap my arm over his stomach and squeeze him.  We’re at a weird angle, almost upright, it’s not that comfortable.  A smooth rumble is all around us and I open my eye in protest at the noise.

 

I’m in a car.

 

Correction I’m in a car with Peter, who is curled next me, Derek, who is in the front passenger seat, and Mr Argent, who is driving.  Why the hell am I in a car with them?  I ache all over, especially my legs, I’m so hungry, I’m thirsty and my head is pounding.

 

Peter moves slightly and I glance at him, he’s so close, his eyes are so very Peter, meaning snarky and amused at the same time, “Welcome back to the land of wakefulness,” he smiles at me.

 

Oh god, I remember.

 

I ran away.

 

I ran away and apparently Peter, Derek, and Chris came to find me.

 

My dad isn’t here, Mel isn’t here, none of the rest of the Pack is here, though really Isaac and Boyd could be having issues with their eyes, so Erika could also be with them.

 

“Easy Stiles Stella,” Peter murmurs, “Calm down, no more panic attacks please, they’re unpleasant for you and us.  Try not to think too much.  Here put your head back on my shoulder, you’re exhausted.”

 

I can’t put my head on his shoulder, Chris is here, he dislikes werewolves at the best of times, he won’t hesitate to hurt Peter if he thinks the Code has been broken.  And I think I recall something to do with Peter being shot.

 

Moving away from Peter I look down and the blood had dried completed on his shirt, though the bullet holes through the cloth are quite noticeable, “You’re hurt.”

 

“No, I’m fine now, I was hurt, but werewolf, remember?”  Peter teases me and encourages me to lean into him.  “Try and rest, it’s going to be another long day.”

 

Slumping into him I nod and wonder what kind of damage has been done. Maybe if I talk fast enough I can get them to let me go, they’ll realise they’re better off without me, and they can dump me back in the woods to rot.

 

Derek twists in his seat, “I can hear your heartbeat Stiles, calm down,” he grumbles it at me, but it’s his caring grumble.

 

“We’re here,” Chris says and I finally pay attention to realise he’s pulled up outside my house.  Also parked up nearby is Derek’s soccer mom’s car, dad’s cruiser, Mel’s car, and Jackson’s Porsche.

 

Oh god.

 

“Stiles,” Peter’s curled around me, “I’m here, we’re here, Pack is here.”

 

Except Jackson’s going to get Peter thrown in jail, he’ll be gone. And my family will suffer because of me. I thought the panic attack was over but it’s threatening to hit again.  “Stiles!” Derek is suddenly behind me and both he and Peter are murmuring, trying to get me to breathe with them.  They catch it in time and I manage to pull out of it, though I’m left shaking and drained.

 

“I still think we could leave,” Peter says quietly as I breathe as calmly as I can.  “Pesky kidnapping charges aside, think of the road trip we could do, I’ve heard Canada is nice this time of year.”

 

“No,” Derek rumbles, “That’s last resort only, besides you don’t like the snow.”

 

“I could adapt, Isaac’s addicted to scarves anyway, think of accessories I could design,” Peter pauses for a second, “If you roll your eyes any harder they’ll fall out.”

 

The only reply he gets is a very put upon sigh.

 

For a few minutes I wonder just how long I can put off going in the house, but it won’t be long, not really, I still have to face reality, I still have to face my dad.  Maybe it’s like a band aid, the faster I rip it off the easier it will be.  Wiggling in their arms I have to take two attempts to leave the car, my legs have tightened up, my body is protesting any movements, and then the pain just drains away.

 

Glancing around I can see lines of black snaking up both Peter and Derek’s arms, they’re taking my pain for me.  “Thanks.”

 

Derek nods but Peter says, “You’re welcome, but be aware, it only masks the pain, it doesn’t heal the damage.  Don’t over do it.”

 

“I won’t,” I promise, not intending to keep it, if I have to run again, I will.  They both glare at me, having caught me in a lie, and then they both escort me to the front door.  I really don’t want to go in there.  I wanted to remember my dad being happy with me, loving me, not being disappointed that I’m what I am.  I’m almost glad my mom died before all of this happened, at least she’ll never know that I’m not as normal as other people.

 

Chris opens the front door and walks in, “We’re here,” he calls out and vanishes inside.

 

Okay I can do this.

 

I stand there a bit longer just staring at the open door.  I’ve totally got this, I have my plan for when dad kicks me out, okay I’m going to need some supplies first, like a container for drinking water, but I’ve got this. The two werewolves crowd me and start trying to sooth me again.  It spurs me forward, time to get this over with.

 

Step by slow step I walk to my doom.  I’ve read other kids’ stories, the chance of this ending well is very low.  Yes dad is extremely tolerant, yes he believes anyone in the LGBT is human and therefore deserves to be treated equally, but it’s different when your child is the one that’s different, when its right in your face, and you’re the one that has to accept someone you love is not the normal that the media portray all the time.

 

The hall stretches in front of me and Chris is leaning on the wall by the living room.  He stands up when he sees me and gives me a sort of friendly smile.  That freaks me right out and I freeze in place.  Oh god, how bad is it that Chris is trying to be friendly?  Or maybe he’s just so glad to get Allison back in Beacon Hills. I have to make myself start walking again.

 

Shaking even harder I have to wrap my arms around my middle to hold myself together.  Reaching the threshold of the living room I pause and struggle with my breath for a bit.  Then I step as boldly as I can to face whoever’s in there.

 

I get the impression that there’s a lot of people in there, but my eyes are drawn to my dad who’s standing there with Mel, and Scott, and they’re both hugging him.

 

Oh god.

 

I’ve lost him, I’ve lost him.  I’ve finally lost him.

 

Letting my eyes drop to the floor I stare as resolutely at the carpet as I can.  No one says anything.  It’s silent.  There’s not one sound and I doubt they can hear my heart ripping out of my chest.

 

“Stiles!” Dad’s voice is loud and I flinch at the volume, he must be so mad at me, only he doesn’t sound mad.  Flicking my eyes up I see him charge towards me, slamming them shut again, I hunch and wait for the first fist to land.  “God, Stiles, you’re home, you’re home,” and arms around me are not what I’m expecting.

 

“Dad?” I stand there baffled and unable to stop myself leaning into him.

 

“God, Stiles, when they told me you’d gone missing,” his hands tighten on me.  “When no one could find you,” he sort of sobs, “I thought I’d lost you, I was so worried.”

 

Worming my arms out from where they’re trapped, my fingers sort of cling to his sides, “Daddy?” I whimper.

 

“I’m here Stiles, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Okay.  I’m not going anywhere,” He sounds so sure.  “Jesus Stiles, I couldn’t find you, you were gone and I couldn’t find you.  I couldn’t find you,” he’s getting upset again.

 

I have no idea what I’m supposed to say, the point of me running away was so no one could find me, so they’d be safe.

 

Resting my head on his shoulder I stand there and bask in the fact that he’s hugging me.  It can only mean he doesn’t know yet.  My arms snake around me and I hold him as hard as I can, he grunts slightly and then his arms tighten.  God I can’t believe I got to have at least one more hug from him before he rejects me.

 

“You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re home,” He mutters and one of his hands rubs a circle on my back. “You’re home, you’re safe, you’re here.”  And then dad’s the one that’s shaking slightly, “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

 

I still don’t know what I’m supposed to say, he’s clearly happy and relieved to see me, he still loves me right now, but soon he’s going to start digging and it’ll all be over.  Jackson wasn’t quiet in school, at the very least Ms Morrell and Mr Harris both know about me, it’s only a matter of time now.

 

Holding my dad I try and memorise this moment, to commit it to my brain so I can play it back, just like I do with the treasured memories of my mom.  These moments are so damn fragile and fleeting but they mean so much.

 

Suddenly someone else is pressing up against my side and their arms go around me and my dad.  Dad’s head jerks around and he grumpily asks, “Hale?  What are you doing?”

 

I lift my head up to see who it is. It’s Peter, Peter’s hugging us.

 

“Well, it looked like a family moment, dad, so I’m joining in,” And that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.

 

“Don’t call me that,” Dad uses his quietly angry voice, the one that means bad things for other people.

 

“But Sheriff, when your darling child is finally eighteen, I’m going to be around, unchaperoned, and eventually there will be marriage, probably after college. So let’s just skip ahead and drop the formalities, dad,” Oh my god, did Peter really just say that?

 

“Let me make myself clear, Hale,” Dad is furious, “I know what you did, I know what you’re capable of.  You’re a murderer, a liar, a master manipulator, you’re nothing more than a villain playing at being something else.  So get it through your werewolf skull, I have wolfsbane bullets, and the next time I shoot you it’ll be with those.  You’re never going to date, marry, touch, or molest my daughter, because if you ever touch her again, I’ll take your hand off, at the shoulder, before I kill you.”

 

“Sheriff,” Peter protests, “You forget I’m the only werewolf here that was capable of tracking Stiles, someone meddled with the scent trail, none of the others could follow it, only me.  And I found Stiles.  I succeeded where you failed, and now Stiles is home, safe and sound.  So I’d suggest that you start getting used to the idea of your child, not only dating me, marrying me, touching me, and never being molested by me, as soon as possible.”

 

Oh god.  Dad really does know about Peter and I.

 

And then I re-run the conversation through my head, did dad call me his daughter?

 

“Back off Hale,” Dad’s arms tighten and then I’m being pulled towards one side, away from Peter.  “My daughter is seventeen, you don’t get to be anything but gone to her.  Or I could obey the law and get you thrown in jail.”  NO, Peter can’t go to jail, I struggle a bit in dad’s arms and soothes me, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

 

Snorting Peter lets me go, “For now, dad,” he twists the word sardonically, “But I can almost guarantee I’ll be over for dinner, and supervised visits, with Stiles in a week, two tops.  Good luck trying to separate us without causing Stiles irreparable harm, it’s too late now, the undeniable power of human love is impossible to defeat.  Your child is in love with me, I’m in love with your child, we’re both consenting, we both choose this.  You’re stuck with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was going to make this chapter longer, but I’ve had to bring work home a lot so I’ve not had time. Plus I spent most of Saturday trying on bridesmaid dresses and I have a few to choose from now (cackles and does a victory dance), I looked totally awesome in most of them it’s going to be tough to choose. Hehehe.


	38. Chapter 38

“Peter has a point,” Deaton’s annoyingly calm tone says, I can’t see where he is though, my view is somewhat limited by my dad.  “Stiles will suffer if you try and separate them.” Dad’s tenses, “But then again, Stiles is legally too young for Peter, so supervision is going to be required at all times. But perhaps it’s best if Stiles sits down before she falls down.”

 

I am only standing up now because dad’s holding me up.  Gently dad leads me off towards the couch we’d normally sit on.  I notice he puts himself between me and Peter, so Peter can’t follow.  Collapsing onto the couch I’m quickly joined by dad and then Mel is sitting down on my other side so I’m engulfed in a giant hug on both sides.

 

Dad called me daughter, and now Deaton’s just called me ‘she’, I don’t understand.  Why aren’t they freaking out about this?  I’m so damn confused, I have no idea what to make of any of this.

 

Mel is patting my arm, “Are you hungry honey?”  She looks concerned and worried and not like I’m a disgusting something that shouldn’t exist.  My stomach answers for me and she chuckles, “I’ll get you some soup, it won’t be long.”

 

“Stay,” Peter says, “I’ll get it,” and he doesn’t wait for her to reply he just walks out of the room, I’m guessing to go to the kitchen.

 

Narrowing her eyes Mel does stay, I don’t think she liked Peter telling her what to do.  This thing with him is not going to go that well, not if he keeps antagonising dad and Mel.

 

Deaton’s sitting on the other couch, along with Isaac, Boyd, and Erika.  The guys keep wiping at their eyes with tissues, their eyes look sore even from over here.  Scott and Allison are sitting on some chairs from the dining room, they’re holding hands and Scott perks up when I look at him.  My eyes skip on and fall onto Jackson and Lydia, they’re also on chairs from the dining room.  Lydia’s face is puffy and her eyes are red rimmed, meaning she’s probably been crying.  Jackson is sitting stiffly and his t-shirt is ripped, there’s blood soaked through it, and his jeans are a mess too, he doesn’t look at me.  Danny’s in one of the armchairs, he gives me a thumbs up.  Derek is in the other armchair and he’s got his brooding face on.  Chris is still leaning on the doorframe.

 

No one says anything, it’s a very awkward silence and then Peter’s sailing in with a tray.  He puts the tray on my lap, it’s just chicken soup from a can, and then he fusses a bit, before he goes to sit on the floor at Isaac’s feet.  He turns so he can look at me, he manages to do it in the most creepy way possible, it’s just so Peter.

 

Picking up the spoon I start on the soup.  The smell of it reminds my stomach of its empty status and I have to remind myself to eat slowly.  No need to overload my stomach or burn my tongue.  There’s a little pill sitting to one side on the tray.  My Adderall.  Damn, I forgot to take any with me, the withdrawals from it are not pretty, some of what I’m experiencing now could be amplified by the start of withdrawals.  Snatching up the pill I dry swallow it and carry on with my soup.

 

“Well,” Deaton breaks the silence, “Shall we begin this Pack meeting?  We need to discuss what happened in the school and the consequences of it.”

 

I freeze with the spoon halfway to my mouth.

 

Isaac puts his hand up, “I’m all for exile from the Pack,” he tries to glare at Lydia but its hard when his eyes keep watering.

 

“Seconded,” Boyd puts his hand up, Erika quickly follows him.

 

“All in favour?” Peter asks and raises his hand too.  Surprisingly Danny, Scott and Allison also raise their hands.

 

“No,” Chris moves into the room, “We can’t exile him, not without him going feral before he graduates, or finding him another Pack meaning we have to convince his parents to move. We need another option, one that keeps him here but will negate his ability to attack or harm any of his Pack the way he did with Stiles.”

 

They’re picking me over Jackson?

 

Scowling Jackson simply crosses his arms and acts like this is all beneath him.

 

“And what about Peter’s crimes?” Lydia flings a hand towards him.  “Stiles is underage and sex is illegal.”

 

Everyone looks at Peter who smirks, “Oh my dear Lydia, I have not had sex, sexual contact, kissed, or anything else that would constitute breaking that pesky little age restriction law.  I might not be the most patient of men, but I refuse to jeopardise my future with Stiles by messing things up now.”  Twisting to stare at her he adds, “I’ll bet Jackson can smell my scent and Stiles’ mingling and become something else, but I also bet that he’s not caught even the slightest whiff of sex on Stiles.”

 

If anything Jackson is even more closed off and Lydia has her thinking look on.

 

“Hmm,” Deaton is studying Jackson, “Well if the reason for Jackson’s outburst isn’t to protect Stiles from Peter, then I’m curious as to what triggered it off?”  And everyone is back to staring at Jackson.

 

Reaching out Lydia’s hand rests on his arm, “Jackson was trying to protect me.  He’s the one who always has to see me through the nightmares I’m having because of what Peter did to me.  He told me about the scent thing.  He didn’t tell me about the girl thing though.”

 

Rolling his eyes Peter asks, “These nightmares, are they all about me?  Or are you dreaming about people?  People you might not have even met?  People that are dying, either through old age, or accidents, or other means?”

 

Shocked Lydia stares at him, “How did you know?”

 

“Because you’re a banshee Lydia, because you will always be drawn to death, think back, there will have been instances in the past, it’s in your blood, it’s why you didn’t turn when I Bit you, it’s why you were able to bring me back,” Peter huffs in annoyance.  “I only Bit you to start with as leverage over Stiles, and so I could use you to boost my power, if you’d have turned I never would have died when I did.  Instead I died, your emerging abilities linked yourself to me and allowed me in to influence you into saving me.  And here I am.”

 

He makes it sound so simple.

 

“We still would have beaten you,” Scott says, “Stiles and Jackson brought the Molotov cocktails, you’d still have burned up, Derek still would have slashed your throat.”

 

Snorting Peter shakes his head, “No.  I would have won.  Even with the snapping of yours and Derek’s bonds to me, I still would have had Lydia to draw on.  I would have been stronger, faster, much more lethal.  I wouldn’t have made the same mistake of catching the flask Stiles threw at me.  I probably would have just killed, or Bitten, Stiles and Jackson in a rage and then slaughtered the rest of you.  So we all got lucky with Lydia’s hidden ability.  She saved all of us.

 

“You don’t understand the massive boost you gave me when I Bit you Scott.  I was still so injured that most of the power went into healing, the boost from Lydia would have gone straight into raw violence, I would, very briefly, have been near invulnerable.  I calculated when the boost would hit and how long I’d have to rescue Derek from the hunters, it would have given me enough time to get him out of there and kill any hunters foolish enough to try and stop me, like Kate,” the smile he gives is not a nice smile.

 

Derek stirs, “I didn’t feel a boost with Isaac, Erika, or Boyd.”

 

“Did you feel calmer though?” Peter asks, “Settled, more in control, the drive for Pack no longer pushing you?”  Derek nods, “Then that was your boost, even greater control, because for an Alpha you never lose control.  Even Talia was known for putting her fist through the odd wall if pushed too far, and I’ve yet to see you lose even an ounce of control.  The increased strength and stamina don’t overwhelm you, you’re perfectly balanced, there’s was no learning curve for you, you simply evolved without incident.”

 

Wow, he’s right, Derek might have been an asshole and gone around Biting teens, but he asked them first, and even with his increased strength he didn’t hurt the breakable humans, like me, he was just shit at being an Alpha.  He still is, being the one in command does not suit him, he’s not much of a leader.

 

“But,” Lydia stares at Peter and he shrugs calmly before staring at me again.  “No, the nightmares, you’re the reason for the nightmares.”

 

Deaton stands up and walks over to Lydia, “May I?” He hold his hand out and she nods at him.  All he does is touch her shoulder, “Peter is correct, you’re a banshee Lydia, and a strong one too, your abilities must have woken up a little earlier because of the Bite.”

 

“Earlier?” She asks.

 

“Yes, most banshees mature at around eighteen, at the moment you’re only a fledgling, your power is incredibly weak.  Normally banshees have their power come to fruition all at once, and they tend to go mad, bombarded by the visions of the deaths of others most die young.  Should a banshee waken early they have a chance to learn their abilities so they don’t get overwhelmed.  Strange that you’ve been left all these years, has no one in your family tried to contact you? Offered to take you in? Teach you?”

 

Shaking her head she says, “No, no one,” she pauses, “Wait, my dad’s aunt did, but she lives on the other side of the country, my parents might be busy fighting and trying to use me against each other, but they’d never let me move.”

 

“Hmm, well, we’ll have to see about getting you some kind of lessons, some way to block, or control your visions, and your screams.  At the moment they’ll only hurt the ears of the more supernatural people around you, in time they’ll deafen and even kill humans, animals, anyone near you when you keen,” Deaton sits down like he hasn’t just dropped a bombshell.

 

I always knew she was dangerous, I didn’t think it would be because she could scream people to death though.

 

“No,” Jackson unfolds his arms, “It’s Peter’s fault, he’s the reason for the nightmares.  He’s the reason for all of this.  He Bit Scott, he killed Laura, he chased us through the school, he murdered all those people, he mauled Lydia.  We nearly killed him and then Derek took the Alpha power from him.  Everything starts with Peter.”  He’s almost desperate, like he’s trying to convince himself.

 

“No,” Deaton leans back, calmly, damn him, how is he always so calm?  “I think you’ll find that your rather late attempt to protect Lydia, combined with your misplaced anger at Peter, is clouding your judgement.

 

“Kate Argent murdered the Hales leaving a very damaged Peter behind.  He was never a good person to start with, it broke the last pieces of Peter.  He then got his insanity driven revenge, in the process Laura was murdered, the murderers and others were murdered, Scott was Bitten, and various other terrible events occurred.”  Deaton looks like he’s discussing something simple like the weather.  “You spent a lot of that time trying to become a werewolf, to become something other than human,” the arrogance falls off of Jackson’s face replacing it with something like fear. 

 

“Yet when you finally got your wish your inner self was reflected outwardly, you became a kanima, lost, untethered, it took Peter remembering about human love to save you Jackson.  It took Lydia’s love, the same love you rejected, to save you.”  Wrapping his arms around his middle Jackson turns his head to stare at the floor. “So stop.  Just stop.  Really look at yourself and your actions Jackson, because if you manage to drive away your Pack, you will lose an anchor.  Lose Lydia too, and you become the kanima again, lost, just a puppet, just a thing to be used.  And those dreams you’ve probably been having?  Yes, they’re real, you are reliving every single murder Matt and Gerard forced you to commit.  Those feelings you drown in when you sleep are the kanima’s, the loss of control is how helpless all kamina’s feel, they search for a friend but only ever find a master.  To be a kanima is a curse, don’t fall prey to it.”

 

The mechanic flashes through my head, the image of the lowering hydraulics that haunts my nightmares dances in front of my eyes.  Blinking I shove more soup in my mouth to distract myself.  Jackson and Lydia aren’t the only ones with nightmares.

 

Danny sits up, “Fine, I can see that Lydia and Jackson have been suffering, but that doesn’t explain why Jackson attacked Stiles.  What did she do to deserve that?  She’s done nothing to either of them.”

 

Neither Jackson nor Lydia will look at him and Peter laughs, “Oh you young idiots, you really did think I was fucking Stiles, you couldn’t get to me, so you went for Stiles.  You decided to use Stiles against me.”  He laughs louder, “Oh that’s funny, you went for the person that bargained for Lydia’s life on that field, the same person who refused to leave until Jackson was called to come and ‘save’ her.  You went for the person that risked everything again and again.  Who wanted to kill Jackson but still stole police property to keep him safe in.  You tried to destroy someone that you both owe your lives to, oh to be young, and so very, very stupid.”

 

Lydia’s staring at me stunned, her hand falls to her side, the side with the scars.  Jackson crumples and then his face twists up, “Even if she isn’t fucking you, she’s still a girl, she’s still a freak,” he spits the last word out and I flinch.

 

Jumping out of his chair Danny lunges for Jackson, they tumble backwards and Danny pins Jackson to the floor.  That shouldn’t happen, Jackson’s a werewolf, he can easily lift Danny off of him.  “Don’t you ever use that word again Jackson.  You promised.  You promised me.  Remember when I came out, do you remember all the shit that happened?  Do you?” Danny’s all but screaming it at Jackson, “Do you remember how you found me?  Do you remember what you said to me?”  Clambering off of Jackson, Danny stares down at him, “Why would you do that?  Why would you be my Uncle?  How could you do that?  How could you break your promise to me?”

 

“Danny,” Jackson stays on his back, showing his belly to Danny, “It wasn’t.  I wouldn’t.  You don’t understand.  I would never.  Not that.”

 

“That,” Danny interrupts him, “You tried to do that.  You broke your promise to me.  And for your information people who are Trans are more likely to end up where I was.  Why do you think we all flipped out when Stiles went missing?  Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?  I’m not your parents Jackson, I won’t measure my love for you against how well you do, I don’t care about that, I care about you, but you have screwed up so much right now. I don’t even want to look at you,” and then Danny storms out of the room saying he needs something to drink.

 

Jackson stays on the floor and stares brokenly at the ceiling like someone cut his strings and he’s stuck there.

 

“Speaking of Stiles,” Deaton gives that creepy calm smile, “Were you able to contain the spread to just the few teachers at school?”

 

Beside me dad stirs, he’s glaring at Jackson, not that I think Jackson even knows any of us are here.  “For now the only people that know are Ms Morrell, Mr Harris, and the principle.  They’ve promised not to say anything, but Ms Morrell has said she’s more than happy to be there for Stiles whenever she needs her.”

 

“So Stiles is safe,” Deaton says, “And we only have two wayward Pack members to discipline, their actions were incredibly reckless and could have done considerable damage.  Their punishments should match their crime, but how to punish them and hide the Pack?”

 

Raising her head Lydia answers him, “Firstly, Jackson and I need to be publicly punished.  Jackson attacked Stiles.  I pepper sprayed Isaac and Boyd who tried to break up the fight.  Both of us will be forced to face the human version of our actions.  And then you will have to decide our private punishments, the ones the non-Pack don’t need to know about.”

 

“Perhaps those last punishments should be thought about first,” Deaton stands up and brushes down his legs, “When we’re all calmer.  Now I have a clinic to run.  And I believe Stiles needs to sleep, I doubt she’s had much rest,” he nods to everyone and then starts getting ready to leave.

 

It triggers everyone else to get ready to leave, though all the wolves come over and kneel down in front of me to hug my legs, gently.  They let me know they’re here for me and then Peter does the same.  He smiles up at me with his chin barely touching my knee, “Sleep well Stiles Stella, remember the pain we pulled will mask the overused muscles, be gentle with yourself.  You know my cell number if you need me.”

 

When Derek kneels to me he rubs a cheek against my knee and simply says, “Pack, always.”

 

Allison and Chris leave last.  Scott stays behind, I guess he’s living here then.  Just one big happy family.

 

“Stiles,” dad still has his arm around me, “Would you like a nap?  Did you get any sleep when you left?  Do you need Mel to patch anything up? Shit I didn’t think to ask if you need to go to the hospital, I was just too happy to see you home.”

 

He’s so earnest, he means it, he really wants to make sure I’m okay, because he cares about me, love me, for now. Until Scott steals him away again, and the worst part is, Scott won’t even have to do anything.

 

“I could do with a shower,” I admit, because I stink, “Maybe something to drink?”

 

“Okay, whatever you want,” he says, “Let me help you with the stairs,” we stand up, and then to my utter embarrassment, dad sort of dips down and I’m being carried bridal style.

 

“Dad,” I try and protest.

 

“Stop wiggling Stiles, just hold on, I won’t drop you,” oh my god, I can’t believe he’s doing this.

 

Mel is no help and rolls her eyes at him, “Men! Jon, put her down before you drop her, Stiles is more than capable of walking up the stairs and it will help her stretch her muscles out.”

 

Instead dad just holds me tighter, “Mel, I can carry my daughter up the stairs, she’s been through a lot.”

 

Crossing her arms Mel asks, “And if Stiles were a boy?  Would you still help her up the stairs or would you do that strange macho thing?  Don’t you dare treat Stiles as less just because you know she’s a girl now.”

 

Sighing dad does put me down, “I’m not going to treat her any differently Mel, but she has been through a lot.”

 

“I know,” Mel wedges herself between us, “So you get to make her a drink, and I’ll help her up the stairs, she can shower and sleep.”  Dad tries arguing but Mel shoots him down and shoos him off, “Okay, that bought us just a few minutes before he goes all over protective on you again.  Let’s get you upstairs at least.” 

 

Leaning on her we make it up the stairs and into the bathroom, she fetches my pyjamas and then she helps me strip to my underwear and t-shirt.  “You should be able to handle this bit kiddo,” she runs her fingers through my hair.  “Leave the door unlocked and I’ll lurk outside the door in case you need me.”

 

It takes longer than it should to get out of the last of my clothes and then shower.  The water is heavenly against my skin.  I scrub away the sweat and dirt leaving myself clean and not ready to face anything.  Drying myself and pulling on my pyjamas I stagger out of the bathroom, Mel catches me and helps me to my bedroom.

 

Dad is waiting with a mug of something.  Mel gets me settled into bed and then I get to drink dad’s offering of warm sweet milk.  He used to make me this when I was younger and I couldn’t sleep.  Sipping the milk I can feel it warm me all the way through and I slurp the last bits out of the mug, “Better?” He asks me.

 

I nod and let him tuck me in, they both fuss over me and when I yawn they leave me to sleep.  I can’t believe dad just accepted me like that.  I can’t believe he called me his daughter.  I never dared to hope that he could ever find out about me and be okay with it. It’s like I just got handed a miracle.  I miracle I am going to be grateful for, for the rest of my life.

 

On the flip side I can believe that Lydia and Jackson got to walk out of the house, Lydia’s good at what she does and her little speech about being punished worked.  They outted me.  They told people about me.  Lydia might not have known about me at first, but she didn’t care, not as long as she got her revenge on Peter, I was just collateral damage, I was nothing to them.

 

And Scott.

 

Perfect fucking Scott is back.  He’ll worm his way back in.  Everyone will stop wanting me around, they’ll go back to crushing on him, and frankly he’s so easy to get on with compared to me. 

 

The only one that will stick with me is Peter, and they took Peter away from me.  There are no blue eyes watching me through my window, no warm body to curl up around, I try to use a pillow but it’s not the same.  They let Lydia and Jackson off the hook so quickly, they let Scott back in, and they made Peter leave me.

 

Clinging to the pillow I oscillate between drowning under gratitude they’re accepting me as me, and rage at everyone for not punishing Jackson and Lydia, for welcoming Scott back so easily, for forcing me to lose Peter.

 

Squeezing my eyes shut I let the warm milk do its thing.  As it cools it will trick my body into going to sleep, the lowering temperature flipping biological switches inside me.  I just have to survive until I’m eighteen, just a little longer, and then I can have Peter back.  By then dad and Mel will have Scott.  Jackson will be MVP again, and Lydia will be back on top of the social pyramid. 

 

By then no one else will want me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because everyone should be accepted by their families, not shunned, not thrown out, not made to feel like they’re not human. You are human, you are normal, you are perfectly you.


	39. Chapter 39

I must have been tired last night because I don’t wake up until mid-morning the following day.  Scott’s gone to school but Mel and dad both stay home with me.  Good thing life is so quiet on the crime front at the moment, plus this way dad can let his deputies handle Jackson and Lydia without making it look like he’s abusing his power.  Also he doesn’t have to deal with Jackson’s dad.

 

My muscles have stiffened up and I wince with almost every move I make.  Mel has helped me do some stretches so at least I can hobble into the kitchen for breakfast.  I get omelettes and some really disgusting rehydration drinks, Mel feels I’m young enough to bounce back as long as my body is given the right ingredients and time.  Dad just fusses.

 

Hobbling back to my room I struggle into cleanish clothes and take my time getting downstairs.  We’re going to watch a movie, together, as a family.  Dad is somewhat going overboard on this new family bonding stuff.  Between that and the hugs he keeps giving me, I do admit to being a bit smothered, but it’s better than the alternative so I hug him back.  Possibly being engulfed in a hug for handing him my empty glass is pushing it.  Except I do know what he’s doing, he’s accepting me, he’s showing me that he still loves me and wants me. 

 

And he keeps calling me his daughter.

 

Collapsing between the pair of them on the sofa I let them both hug me and we settle down to watch Bridget Jones’ Diary.  Which is hilarious, because if you can read between the lines, you know that Bridget is totally obsessed with Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. The same Mr Darcy played by Colin Firth in the TV adaption, and Colin Firth also plays the lead character that Bridget falls in love with.  Kind of an amusing in joke if you’re in the know, or you’ve read the book.

 

Mel laughs with me at all the funny bits and dad grunts now and again.  He shakes his head at other bits as I curl up struggling to breathe because she is so neurotic.  “Oh god she didn’t,” Mel covers her face and chuckles.

 

“She did,” I cackle at the next bit and this is awesome.

 

When the film credits roll, and Bridget ends up with the right guy, I lean into the couch and stretch a bit, damn I’ve stiffened up again.  “You okay?” Dad asks.

 

“I’m fine father, I’m merely experiencing the aftereffects of my bout of over exertion, it will pass,” and I’ve slipped into Stella.  Oh god, I tense up further and stare at him a bit waiting for his reaction.

 

“Okay, as long as you’re okay,” He moves to hug me again and this time I do cling to him a bit.  He’s just seen me as Stella and he doesn’t seem to be upset.

 

“I’m good father, I’m good,” I hold on harder to him.

 

Neither of us are talking so it should be awkward, but Mel is also rubbing at my back so I don’t care.  I won’t have this forever, I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.  Even after my marathon sleeping I’m a bit tired and I may start drifting off, dad breaks the moment, “Do you need another nap?”

 

“No, I’m good dad,” and I’m back to being Stiles.

 

“You know you don’t have to do that,” Dad says quietly.

 

“Do what?” I’m a bit confused, maybe I’m hugging him too tightly.

 

“Hide.  You don’t have to hide from us Stiles” Dad’s voice is soft, “You don’t have to pretend to be anything or anyone but you, this,” he waves a hand at me, “Boy thing, you don’t have to hide behind that mask.”

 

“But I am a boy, well sometimes, and sometimes I’m a girl,” Oh, we might be having the talk now.  “Dad, I’m Bigendered.  It means I’m male and female but for me it’s not at the same time.  I sort of switch between them.”  He accepted me when he thought I was Transgendered and a girl, can he accept me as both?

 

“It’s okay,” he says and keeps on hugging me and he’s done it, he’s accepted me, all of me.  Oh my god.  I never thought I could have even one person accept me, now I have a Pack and I still get to keep my family.  I get to keep my dad.  And not only that, he loves me, he still loves me.

 

“Dad, daddy, thank you,” I sort of choke it out.  “Thank you.”

 

“No Stiles, thank you, thank you for telling me,” he’s getting a bit choked up too.  “Miss Morrell gave us a little lecture over the phone, and I want you to know that you can come to me for anything, anything at all.  I know I’m not you, and I’m not going through what you are, I can’t understand it the way you do, but I’m here Stiles.  No matter what, I’m here, you can always come to me.  I love you Stiles.”

 

“Love you too daddy,” Oh god I may start crying soon.  Either that or wake up because this is the best dream ever.  This is everything I could have dared to hope for.

 

“So you do your little butterfly thing and you take as long as you need in each stage Stiles,” he keeps talking and I’m a bit baffled.  “We know moving from male to female is a huge thing.  Everyone does it their way.  So if you want to stay in the in between stage you do that.  You’ll be my son and my daughter until you’re ready to leave the boy part behind.”

 

My amazing dream skids to one side and I jerk back from him stunned, “What?”

 

“I’m saying I don’t care about the son or daughter thing.  You’re my child.  And I love you Stiles.  You take as long as you need to move from male to female, and I’m going to be here the whole time.  Whatever you need Stiles,” he tries to pull me in closer and I struggle.  “Stiles?  Did I say something wrong?”

 

“Dad,” Maybe I misheard.  “Dad, I’m Bigendered, I’m always going to be your son and your daughter.  I’ve never been just a boy, I’ve hidden my girl side, and that part of me wants out, but it won’t make my boy side go away.”

 

“Whatever you need,” and I let him pull me back into a hug, only this time I’m stunned, he doesn’t believe me.  He doesn’t believe that I’m Bigendered.

 

“I’m kind of tired,” I hear myself say and then I let dad lead me up to my room.  He tucks me under a blanket and I fake closing my eyes.  When I hear him head downstairs I lunge for my phone and tap out a message to Peter, “Hey, U there?”

 

He must be right by his phone because he sends a message straight back, “Of course.  How are you feeling?” I can almost picture him sitting in the apartment and being all Peter-y

 

“Muscles ache, but I’m good.” I’m not sure how to whine at him because my dad loves me but won’t’ listen to me, and I don’t know how to get dad to accept that I’m not just one gender.

 

“Do you need me to take your pain?” Pings over and I need him to come and give me someone to hug.  Damn it he just accepted me, he’s been making adjustments for me, like clothes for both sides of me, ideas about dancing so I can be either a boy or a girl and it won’t matter we can swap on the dance floor as we go.  I can be any part of me around him and he’s happy.

 

I sent back. “No. I miss you.”

 

“Miss you too :( “ Actually makes me smile.

 

“You know emoticons?”

 

“Of course, I’m not Derek!” Has me sniggering and imagining the face he’s pulling, he’s probably straining his eyes with the epic eye roll.  And then he sends me “<3”

 

“I <3 U 2,” I quickly tap out for him.

 

“:D” Is followed by, “Ah Derek and Isaac are back.  They had to go to the station so Isaac could give a statement. I have to go :(“

 

“K C U l8r” I sigh as I send it.

 

“I’m going to have to buy you a dictionary if you keep that up.  Kids and their new shorthand speak.  <3 xxx”  Pings in as I put my phone down. Snatching it back I snort at the thought of him glaring at his phone and trying to read my text speak.  If he thinks that’s bad he should see me when I’m gaming.

 

Mollified by my little chat with Peter I do doze off for a few moments and when I wake up I’m restless.  My body hates me right now, but I can keep doing gentle exercises to start getting it back on track.  I play a video in the background, a boring one on Chemistry but I have to get back into studying and catching up on my classes. I still have to graduate high school and I’m going to do it to the best of my abilities.  I will have more options open to me. I will have choices for my future.

 

My plan seems to work and I steadily warm up my muscles a bit at a time.  I move on from Chemistry to History and this video maker is much more entertaining and has me chuckling at some of her pithy remarks.

 

By the time Scott gets home I’m sitting at my computer and finishing up some assignments.  Even with all the time off I’ve had I’m not that far behind, well not by school standards, by my standards I’m weeks off my schedule.  The chance of me clawing my way back is really low, damn it.

 

It’s not long before Scott is knocking on my door and letting himself into my room, “Hey Stiles.  Mom says dinners soon, and its tuna, your dad pulled a face at that,” I pull a face at that too but suck it up.  Tuna isn’t too expensive, and it could help dad to lower all those bad things he needs to lower.

 

“’Kay,” I don’t look at Scott, I don’t want to encourage him to stay.

 

He settles on my bed anyway, “I didn’t realise how much I’d miss school here either,” he says and I grunt as I keep plugging away at my assignment.  “Seriously it’s not until you can’t have something that you realise how much it means to you.”

 

“Uh-huh,” I really don’t want to talk to him.

 

“There’s all kind of gossip going around at school.  About you.  And why Jackson attacked you,” he almost sounds excited, I just shrug.  “Jackson and Lydia are both suspended, Jackson’s off of all his sports teams for the rest of the year,” which isn’t long now, I can’t help that cynical thought bubbling up. “And Lydia’s been thrown out of all the clubs she was in,” That makes me smile, she used to queen bee over everyone in those.  “And everyone’s really mad that Jackson attacked you, you know because you’re the MVP and stuff.”

 

There’s silence like he’s waiting for me to say something.

 

“That’s awesome Scott,” I tell him and hope he goes away.

 

“You’re using your sarcastic tone,” He says quietly.

 

“Really,” I string the word out.

 

“Yeah.  You also smell really unhappy,” Is too close to home and then he says, “You know your room stinks of Peter.”

 

“Good,” And that piece of news makes me smile happily, it also means that I’ll still smell like Peter even if I don’t get to see him.

 

“You really like him,” I refuse to look away from my screen which puts me at a disadvantage with Scott, but screw him.

 

“Yep.”  Even Scott isn’t this thick, he must know I don’t want to talk.

 

“Okay,” Is the only reply and I get stuck back into my assignment.

 

Catching up in my homework I don’t notice the time.  A knock on my doorframe has me looking up to see Mel standing there, “Dinner is being dished up kids, see you downstairs.”  It signals a really awkward dinner.  Mel won’t look at Scott, Scott gives her puppy dog eyes, dad doesn’t look like he knows what to do, and I just sit there like a fourth wheel.

 

Afterwards I end up doing more homework with Scott taking up residence on my bed.  He’s reading his text books and talking about how far behind on his subjects he is, “I mean summer school can’t be that bad, right?  I need the extra help anyway.  This way I can catch up for next year and I can graduate with the rest of the Pack.”

 

“Uh-huh,” I sort of zone him out.

 

“Stiles?”  His voice is really quiet.

 

“What?” I don’t hide how grumpy I am.

 

“Mom’s really scared of me.  No one will tell me how badly I hurt her.  I know she ended up in hospital, but they won’t tell me what I did to her,” that makes me swing the chair around to stare at him.  He’s sitting on my bed and staring down at his hands.

 

“You really wanna know?” I ask him annoyed at all his interruptions. He nods so I let him have it, I tell him about how Derek and Peter got there just in time to stop him slashing open his mom’s throat.  How Mel had to have stitches and a stay in hospital.  How she moved so slowly when she first got out of hospital and was on heavy pain killers.  “There are you happy now?”

 

“Thank you Stiles,” He doesn’t look up from his hands once.  “Thank you for telling me and for looking after my mom for me.”

 

“Whatever,” I swing back around and read up on my next math lesson.  We don’t talk for the rest of the evening.

 

Later dad knocks on my doorframe, “Scott, the living room’s free, go make your bed up on the couch.”  There isn’t a room free for Scott here.  Dad isn’t ready to sleep with Mel yet, so they’re keeping separate rooms.  They refused to allow Scott to sleep in with me.  We’re going to move around the dining room and make that Scott’s but it will take a week to get it ready.

 

“Yes sir,” Scott gets up and takes his text book with him, “Night Stiles.”

 

“Night,” I’m glad to see the back of him and then the house is going to sleep and I’m left wide awake learning the joys of math.  I might not be at school for the rest of this week but I can keep up with my lessons. That way I can just blend back in when I get to school.

 

My phone buzzes and I grin at getting another text from Peter, “Don’t stay up too late, you need your sleep to study efficiently.  <3 xxx”

 

“K. I’m going to miss you tonight,” I resist shortening all the words as I power down my laptop.

 

“I’ll miss you too.  Though I won’t miss the horrible shorts.”  Comes in as I’m pulling my clothes off.

 

“They were awesome, if hard on the eyes, LOL,” I send that off and grab my pyjamas.

 

“LOL back.  Now turn off your light and go to sleep,” Has me pausing for a few seconds.  Flipping off the lights I pad over to my window and I’m rewarded with a pair of glowing blue eyes out in the darkness down by the tree line.

 

I wave at him and send, “<3”

 

The blues lights wink out and I get, “<3 xxx  Happy dreaming my dearest Siles Stella.”  And suddenly I know I will.

 

“You too.  <3 xxx” I curl up in my bed and hug my phone close with a smile on my lips.


	40. Chapter 40

Bundled up and sitting on the bench by the Lacrosse field, I give Danny a big thumbs up as they get ready to play the opposing team.  I’m not allowed to play today, because dad nearly blew a gasket and Coach actually backed down from him.  Instead I’m ‘assisting’ and I’m going to be yelling at our team during the game.

 

I already know the whole Pack is in the stands, or on the field, except for Jackson and Lydia, who are still grounded and are lucky their parents have talked Boyd’s parents out of pressing charges.  I’ve resisted the urge to turn around and stare at Peter.  And I really hope dad meant it when he said the Pack was invited around tomorrow for lunch.  It means I can go running with them and then chill out at home with everyone.

 

The game is brutal, if we didn’t have two werewolves on the team we’d be losing badly.  As it is we’re struggling to hold them to a draw.  Coach and I are exploiting the tiny little weaknesses they have, there really aren’t that many of them, they’re that good, and that’s all that stopping us losing this.

 

It comes down to seconds before the final whistle and Greenburg of all people scores the final goal.  I’m not sure who is more stunned by his surprise goal, us, or them.  We win anyway and I’m allowed out from dad’s supervision to go to the after game party.  A party watched over by adults, but who cares?  I can mingle with Isaac, Boyd, Erika, and Danny.  God I’ve missed my Pack.  They’re excited by our upcoming run too, and we make plans for things to do at mine, there may be a bit of an Xbox battle coming up.

 

When morning comes it dawns clear and bright.  I take it as a good omen for the day and get ready for my run.  Scott and Allison join us on our run and I end up sticking close to Peter.  I am so out of shape and I simply can’t keep up with them, I tire quickly, my feet are even more unsteady than usual and Derek paces near me to catch me every time I trip.

 

Slowing down I trot dejectedly as Derek says, “Well you’re in better shape than I thought you would be, it won’t take you long to get back to where you were.”  Stunned at his words I trip again and this time Peter catches me.

 

“He’s right, your stamina’s gone down, but that’s about it.  I can’t wait until we can go for longer runs,” His eyes sort of smoulder at me as he helps me stand up and I promptly tangle my feet over nothing but air.

 

“Peter,” Derek cradles me and I flush as I get my feet under me, “Behave, Stiles Stella does not need a concussion.”

 

Huffing Peter scowls at him, “But nephew, I have been banned from seeing my Stiles Stella.  I refuse to be sorry that I’m not only enjoying the small amount of time I have with Stiles Stella, but I have to make sure my claim is as staked as I can make it.  Anyone could come along and steal what’s mine.”  He looks really anxious, as if there are hordes of people about to descend and drag me away.

 

“Peter,” I reach out and touch his arm, “I’m not going anywhere.  I’m not looking at anyone but you.  Consider your claim well and truly staked, as long as mine is too.”  God, pretty much anyone could come along and be a better partner for Peter.

 

He wraps himself around me and I luxuriate in his hug, “Your claim is branded on me,” he murmurs.  “No one can undo this stake of yours.”

 

“Good,” I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in.  The werewolfy bastard isn’t even slightly sweaty.  “God I’ve missed you Peter.”

 

“I’ve missed you too,” is said against my somewhat sweaty neck.  We’ve text each other, he grudgingly lets me get away with some text speak, but mostly I write the words properly for him.  It’s just not the same though, I really have missed him.

 

Standing there with Peter I feel balanced for the first time in ages.  Nothing is wrong, everything is right.  Calm and relaxed I hold him and then Derek is hugging me from behind and other bodies press against us.  It’s a big Pack hug session and it’s amazing.

 

Eventually we do finish our run, with Peter, me, and Derek lagging behind and coming last.  I really don’t care as I get to hold hands with Peter when the others are out of sight.

 

The general plan at the cars, is that everyone goes homes, showers, and meets back up at mine for lunch.  I get a very swift hug from Peter, followed by a peck on my cheek and then he’s swanning off to lounge against Derek’s soccer mom’s car, giving me a little wave as he does it.

 

Chuckling as I drive myself and Scott home I hum along to the radio.  For some reason I’m Stella right now, and I obey all traffic signs, with the Sheriff as a dad I know why they have most of them, and what happens when you disobey them, it’s not a good time for the rescue teams when they spend hours picking bodies out of crumpled metal scrapheaps. 

 

Scott’s sniffing the air and I do my best to ignore him, like I’ve done all week.  He isn’t taking the hint, he keeps coming into my room.  We’ve mostly got the furniture out of the dining room, he has a permanent bed made up, I don’t understand why he keeps sitting on my bed.  “Stiles?” He asks.

 

“Yes,” I keep my answer short and clipped.

 

“You’re not exactly Stiles right now are you? I mean you are Stiles, but you smell differently, you move differently, you talk differently.” And then he does that bloody Scott thing and turns out to not be as dumb as he looks, “Does that make you Stella right now?”

 

Turning down the music I keep my eyes on the road, “Yes Scott, that does mean I’m Stella right now.  Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“No,” He fidgets in his seat, “Only Miss Morrell is convinced you’re a girl, and only a girl, but you change too much. I mean Allison is a girl, and yes she acts like a girl.  But dude when she goes all huntery she’s still a girl.  You don’t do that, you change completely.”

 

“That’s because I’m Bigendered Scott.  I’m both a boy and a girl, but not usually at the same time,” I’m sliding back into being Stiles.

 

“You smell different around Peter too,” Scott carries on and my hands tighten on the steering wheel.  “Happy.  You smell happy.”

 

“He makes me happy,” I point out the obvious and wonder when he’s going to shut the hell up.

 

“He smell differently too,” Scott apparently isn’t going to shut up any time soon.  “He used to smell off, weird, strange.  He smells more normal now.”  He goes quiet and I think that’s it, when he adds, “He smells happy around you too.  All of them do, even Derek, and he usually smells of pain.”

 

Oh, god, when did his super sniffer start working?  And then I blink and go over what he said, “Wait, I make Peter smell happy?”  That gets my attention, and it makes me smile too.

 

“Yeah, when he saw you his heart did a few funny beats, and when you first saw him and smiled, his heart literally stopped beating for a few seconds,” Scott tells me and suddenly I don’t want Scott to stop talking, like ever.  “The wind was blowing his scent to us and I could tell he was just Peter and then he started smelling happy.  All of them did, even Danny.”

 

“Huh,” He’s just made my day, I sit up taller in my seat, “Thanks Scott.”

 

“You’re welcome,” we go back to listening to the radio and we both sing along to a few of the songs.  At home he lets me go shower first and I spend ages trying to find something nice to wear.  I don’t want to look totally horrible for when Peter gets here.

 

To pass the time I help Mel make sandwiches and get the chips out ready for the descending hordes of werewolves.  I tell her about the run and how Derek stopped me dying a few times, the big Pack hug and how happy I am to see everyone again.  She’s laughing at me when we both hear Scott as he drags his feet, the smile drops off her face for a few seconds and then she bravely pins it back on.

 

It’s not until Scott’s managed to stomp all the way into the kitchen, and taken the sandwiches to put the plates in the sitting room, that I realise I never should have heard him coming.  Thinking back he’s been doing that a lot, dragging his feet, or stomping them. We all know exactly where he is at all times, and he never walks straight into a room, he hovers at the door and makes sure we know he’s coming in before he does walk in.

 

Huh, that’s something the old Scott would have done.

 

The doorbell rings and the Argents have shown up, with food, or in this case store bought cheesecake.  Allison instantly gravitates to Scott, the adults go into a huddle, and I can see Chris looks happier than he normally does.  I go back to getting the food ready.

 

“That was a fun run today Stiles,” Allison says as she puts the cheesecake on the side near me.  “I can see why you all enjoy it so much.  It’s nice to run and be together.”

 

I give her a friendly nod, Scott’s little revelations have me so high right now I don’t care that Allison is talking to me.  “Uh-huh, they are good aren’t they.”  She beams at me.

 

Scott brings over a plate for the cheesecake to go onto, “Yeah, I know I’m going to be looking forward to them every week,” he holds the plate as Allison gets the cheesecake out of the packaging. “I’m not going to be able to keep up with the other werewolves anymore, but I don’t care, and on the way home Stiles Stella and me were singing along to the radio,” he beams at me too.

 

Danny and the werewolves all turn up and I get distracted getting them all drinks.  Peter isn’t with them but then he takes so damn long to get ready he’s probably just running late. Anxiously I settle down with everyone and nibble nervously at sandwiches while I wait for him to turn up.

 

After an hour I go from anxious to outright fear, he should be here by now, even if he is messing around with his wardrobe, or his hair, or just being Peter, he should be here.  Whipping my phone out I text him, “Where the hell are you?”

 

He can’t be caught in a horrific car accident because he texts straight back, I read it confused, “At home sewing.  How’s lunch going?”

 

Why the hell is he at home sewing, why isn’t he here?  Tapping, “Why aren’t you here?” I wait for his answer.

 

“Because your dad told me not to come,” has my blood boiling in anger.

 

“Why?” I somehow punch out the word with shaking hands.

 

“He doesn’t like me hanging around his underage daughter, he thinks I’ll take advantage of you, and he just hates me on principle.  I told him it won’t work, banning me is going to blow up in his face,” takes a while to come back, and Peter’s right, this is going to blow up in dad’s face.  I haven’t done a thing with Peter, and frankly no matter how much I want to do things with Peter, I’m not risking him going to jail.  I’m not totally stupid, I’m not going to lose Peter, I need him too much.

 

“Hey dad,” I put my phone in my pocket, “Can I go check on Peter? Only he’s not here yet, and I’m worried about him.”  There’s no way the wolves missed my heart skipping on the lies and they stare at me.

 

“No Stiles,” Dad’s prodding the tuna on his plate, “He’s not coming, he’s not invited.”

 

“Why’s he not invited dad?” I ask and everyone is looking back and forth between us.

 

“Because I don’t want him around you.  He’s too old for someone your age, he’s a proven murderer, he’s shown himself capable of anything.  So he will never be welcome in my house,” Dad looks up at me and our gazes clash.  “As long as you live under my roof young lady you will have nothing to do with that,” he pauses, “Thing that calls itself a man.  Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Crystal,” I grit out and then stand up furious with him.  “I’ll just get my school stuff and I’ll be out of your hair.”

 

“What?” He practically drops the plate as he scrambles to his feet.

 

Ignoring him I stomp through the house and head upstairs.  Grabbing my school bag I start stuffing my school things in there, I know it won’t all fit and I don’t care.  I’m so angry at him.  I know I’m not thinking straight right now.  I can’t believe he won’t let me see Peter.  Damn it we were making plans to do it properly, to have chaperones, like Derek was today, so we can’t do anything.

 

“Stiles,” dad’s in my doorway, “What are you doing?”

 

“Well Sheriff,” I decide to go for sarcasm, “Your sharp deducting skills should see that I’m packing, as in taking my things, so I can leave.” I practically throw my next text book in.

 

“I can see that,” He says gritting his teeth, “I want to know why?”

 

“WHY?” I glare at him, “Because you said no Peter for as long as I live here.  If I don’t live here, I can see Peter.  And before you start on the threats of jail for him, I’m not that fucking stupid.  Yes I’m a teenager, yes I have hormones that are all over the freaking place, and yes I’m still a virgin who wants to know what the big deal is about sex, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to have my boyfriend thrown in jail for Statuary Rape because I can’t keep my hands to myself.  That’s what the chaperones are going to be for.  They can make sure we behave until I’m eighteen, then I’m moving in with Peter, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Goddamn it Stiles,” He rubs his face, “Put your things away and just come downstairs, I know you like Peter, but you have to see him as the predator he is.  You’re vulnerable right now, more so than many teenagers, and he’s grooming you.  He’ll say nice things to you, he’ll play nice, and then he’ll get what he wants from you and he’ll hurt you doing it.”

 

“No he’s not,” I’m totally losing it right now, because there is a part of me that wonders if Peter is using me.  I’m underage, I have ADHD, I’m not a normal teenager, I’m not that well liked at school, I’m a freak.  Why the hell would anyone want me?

 

Dad knows how to read me like a book and he goes for the weak spot I’ve just shown him, “Are you sure?  Are you absolutely sure Stiles?  Because looking at his history, judging him by his actions, can you really look me in the eye and say you have no hesitations, no second thoughts about him at all?”

 

I can’t look him in the eye and I drop my glance to the bag on my bed, “That’s what I thought.  Just come downstairs and we’ll talk about this as a family, together, we’ll work it out and make sure that Peter can’t hurt you.”

 

That presses some of my buttons and my head jerks up, “No, no I will not come downstairs so you and Mel can talk at me and walk all over me.” I grab the next text book and try to put it in the already overfull bag.

 

“What are you talking about?” He even sounds surprised.

 

“I’m talking about you not listening to me, talking over me, telling me how I’m supposed to feel.  That’s what I’m talking about dad.” Fighting with the book I can’t get it in the bag and I end up throwing it at my wall instead.  “How about that awesome promise you made me dad?  You know how I can come to you with anything, anything at all, and you’ll listen to me.  You remember that promise dad?  Because so far all you’ve done is tell me things. You’ve not listened to me.  You know everything and I’m just some dumb kid that doesn’t know anything.”

 

I’m on a roll, things have been building up for so long now, “Did you know Scott’s tried to kill me more than once?  That I had to hose him down in the shower room with a fire extinguisher to stop him going all werewolfy?  Or how about when Jackson was being used by Matt to kill people.  I had to lie on that damn mechanic’s floor and watch a guy die right in front of my eyes. I held Derek up in a swimming pool for hours. I bargained with an insane Peter Hale over Lydia’s body.  I had to lie on the floor at your work and hope to god that Matt didn’t kill you.  I crawled to you while Scott and Derek fought the kanima, I couldn’t use my legs, so I fucking crawled to you, thinking you were dead and praying you weren’t.”

 

Nothing coming out of my mouth is making any sense, it’s all jumbled.  “Did you know I still have nightmares about mom?  About losing you?  Do you know all the shit I’ve been through lately?  How you just brushed aside that I’m Bigendered because you know better?  The only person to ever find out about me and accept me for me is Peter.  Did you know that dad?  Derek gave me a quick lesson in ballroom dancing, and Peter wants to take me dancing, he’s making plans for us to learn how to dance as a couple, and he wants us to learn how to dance if I’m male or female.  So it won’t matter if I’m Stiles, or Stella, we can just dance. My gender doesn’t really matter to him, I’m just Stiles Stella to him.  He even made me clothes to match his, clothes for a boy or a girl.  He’s making changes in his life for me, he’s happy that I’m me, he wants me for me.  When we have Pack naps together I spoon him dad, and it feels awesome to hold him in my arms and fall asleep with him, or wake up to him.”

 

Dad’s face is turning a weird shade of red, “He’s helped me learn how to use wigs so I can have long hair.  He’s found ways of altering clothes from thrift shops so they suit me, he’s designed a dress he’s making for me, and Derek’s paying for it.”

 

“Seriously?” Dad waves his hands around and looks like he wants to strangle me, “Stiles, I didn’t raise you to be this stupid.  This guy is making you clothes, clothes I’m guessing you’ve worn.  For god’s sake Stiles, you know what predators do, did it ever occur to you the real reason Peter’s being so damned helpful?”

 

“Argh!” I scream at him, “You’re still not listening to me.  You take what you want to hear and that’s it!” 

 

“No I’m a trained police officer, I see the facts, I see what you don’t want to see.  He’s using you Stiles.  There’s something wrong with him and you need to be careful of him…”

 

“Using me?” I cut him off, “Something wrong with him?  Why? Because he likes someone like me?  Someone who isn’t male or female, but both?  So only someone like Peter can like a freak like me?”

 

“No!” He bellows back, “That isn’t want I said, you’re twisting my words.”

 

“Oh and you’re not twisting mine!”  I’m so angry I’m shaking like a leaf, I can’t believe he still isn’t listening to me, he’s not believing a word I’ve said.  And it hurts inside, it hurts so badly, all this time, all the lies I told him, I’ve tried so hard to keep him safe, to protect him.  I wanted him to stay away from the supernatural.  I’ve failed him.  I failed Scott, Mel, Peter, everyone.

 

The anger drains away and I’m just so damned tired.  I’ve tried bottling things up.  Pushing away my problems.  I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t take it anymore.

 

For a few horrible seconds I see why some people pick suicide.  Thankfully my situation, while dire, isn’t totally hopeless, I just need time.  That and the fact my brain chemistry hasn’t turned on me, thankfully it hasn’t yet stopped making happy hormones, or started drowning me in depression.  I’m not at the point of no return, yet, but I’m suddenly scared that’s where I’m headed. 

 

Sitting on my bed I put my head in my hands, “Sorry,” I say sadly, “I’m sorry dad.” I’m sorry I’m this giant screw up, I’m sorry I messed everything up, I’m sorry I was born wrong.

 

“Stiles,” the bed dips near me and dad pulls me into a hug, I barely feel it, “It’s okay, it’s okay.  We’ll work it out together.” I sit passively and wait for him to leave. It takes a while and when he asks me, “You need a moment?” I nod.

 

No sooner has dad started walking down the stairs to get me a drink, and to give me space, than I’m pulling on my sneakers and I head straight for my window. I have to get out of here.  I have to get away from him.  I need more space than he’s giving me.

 

Scott and I perfected this as kids.  I just haven’t done it as a teen because I’m lazy.  In moments I’m down and running for the front of the house.  Derek keeps a spare key in the trunk of his car, if you know how to get to it.  Apparently he kept locking himself out of the Camaro so he got in the habit. I feel under the bumper and the spot he’s made for it.  Snagging it I’m soon driving off without a plan.

 

I’ve got to stop doing that, I’ve got to start planning things.

 

Normally I’d go and see Peter, but dad’s words have done their work so I head somewhere I’ve not been in a while.  Parking up I feel dumb for not bringing her flowers.  Jogging along the rows I make my way straight there and stare down before I fall down. 

 

“Hey mom,” I sit next to her, “It’s me, sorry I’ve not been for a while, life has been kind of crazy,” and I tell her everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it had to come to a head at some point.


	41. Chapter 41

All talked out I stare at her headstone and listen to the wind in the trees, it’s so peaceful here. I still have to decide whether to go home or not. I decide to put it off for a bit longer.  I never thought I’d never want to go home to my dad.

 

“Found you,” Scott’s voice comes from behind me.

 

I’m not ready to go back. I’m not ready to decide whether to go back or not.  I’m not ready to face my dad. I’m not ready for anyone to be here with me.

 

Sitting next to me Scott has his serious face on, “Um, your dad may have broken his fist on Peter’s face.”  He holds his hands up as I swing around to stare at him.  “He thought you’d go straight to Peter, so he kind of stormed the apartment, and when I got there he had Peter in a headlock on the floor and was punching him.”

 

My jaw has dropped and a strangled, “Oh. My. God,” slips out.

 

“Derek managed to pull your dad off.  Peter apparently didn’t fight back and he’s not even bruised.  Mom’s checking your dad’s hand.  And Mr Argent is playing mediator, which is weird to watch. Then everyone panicked because you weren’t there and Peter may have laid into your dad, but he used his words not his fists.  He kinda made your dad sound worse than mine,” Scott frowns and looks away, “He said a bunch of other stuff too, your dad nearly hit him again, but Derek made Peter go sit in his room to stop baiting your dad.”

 

That sounds like Peter, take a bad situation and make it worse.

 

I guess I have to go to the apartment then.  Can this possibly get any worse? Then I want to slap myself, because of course it can, this is my life.  Standing up I brush my jeans off and stalk towards where I parked Derek’s car.

 

Scott is soon walking next to me.  “Stiles Stella?”

 

“What?” I snap annoyed that I have to face things when I’m not ready.

 

“I’ve never heard you argue with your dad like that before.  You two never fight.  Especially after your mom,” he pauses, “Well you know.  I don’t understand. You two are like this united force or something.”

 

Seriously? I glance at Scott who is scuffing his feet and staring at the ground, “Because he’s not coping with me being different Scott.  Some people can never accept the people they love don’t fit in boring little boxes that society says we should be in,” and damn it, I’m right.  Dad can accept me as a boy, or as a girl, but he can’t accept me as both. Crap, things have gotten worse.

 

“So it’s like when mom found out I was a werewolf and she did her best to pretend I wasn’t in the house with her.  She sort of acted like I was dead to her, you know when she was wasn’t hiding and smelling of fear,” He screws his face up as I roll my eyes, of course he turns this into something about him.  “Do you think your dad can come around?  I mean he was okay when he thought you were a girl.  Is there any way we can explain it to him? Make him understand about you?”

 

He shoves his hands in his pockets, “You shouldn’t lose your dad just because of who you are.  That’s stupid.  You’re still Stiles.  You’re still the same kid.  None of that’s changed.”

 

Now he sounds like the old Scott.  “Yeah sorry to break it to you Scott, but people don’t really see it that way.  If you break from the herd you get cut down, the more different you are, the nastier they get.”

 

“But,” He growls, “That’s even more stupid, why are people so stupid?”

 

“Got me, but if you find out the answer we can sell it and get rich,” I unlock Derek’s car and climb in.  Scott clambers into the passenger seat.  “We could probably save the world with that answer too.  Our names would be spoken for centuries to come, we’d be worshipped and adored by billions of people.”

 

“That would cool,” He puts his seatbelt on, “Oh, and Derek said he would rip your throat out for taking his car.  He got really intense about any scratches you might ‘inflict’, his word not mine, on his baby.”

 

Driving sedately down the road, I’m tempted to mess up Derek’s car just for the hell of it, but I like my throat where it is.

 

We don’t talk for the rest of the journey and I park up in Derek’s designated parking area.  I’m careful to lock the car and to take the key with me.  I have a feeling Derek’s going to move the key hiding place.  Heading upwards I get more and more nervous when suddenly Scott is hugging me, “It’s okay sib, you’re going to be okay.  We’ll make it okay.”

 

“Sib?” I ask leaning into him, just for a few seconds.

 

“Well bro is kinda stupid, because it’s only half of you.  And sis isn’t right either.  Sib is the best I could think of,” he even stands there ‘holding’ the door when the elevator dings so I can go first.

 

“Okay,” I step out and march my way to Derek’s door.  Derek must have heard me because he swings the door open before I reach it.  I hand the car keys over without a word and then hurry over to my dad.

 

He’s sitting on the couch and Mel is just tying off a bandage.  She has a few ice packs nearby too.  He’s staring at me and he looks so relieved, “Stiles, you’re okay.”

 

“I’m fine,” I point to his hand, “You’re not.  What the hell were you thinking?  You can’t just storm in and start hitting Peter for something he’s not done.  And why the hell did you think I’d come here anyway?  I went to see mom.”  Dad’s face drops and he glances down guiltily.  “Dad, you know Peter’s a werewolf.  If he wanted to, he could have killed you, without any effort at all.”

 

Grinding his teeth he takes a deep breath, “When I got here and you weren’t here, I had to find out where you were, he wasn’t cooperating.  I may have gotten a little physical.”

 

“A little physical,” I charge in and interrupt him.  “Dad, he’s a freaking werewolf, you don’t get into fisticuffs with werewolves, because they will break your hand with their faces.  I should know, I’ve nearly done that with Derek.”

 

“Yeah,” Dad tries to cross his arms defensively but Mel is still doctoring him, “Well I know that now.  And I know where you are now too.”

 

“Fine,” I rake my fingers through my hair, “Good, well you can go home then, I’ll be around later to collect my school books, or someone can drop them off or something,” because right here, right now, I can’t go back. I just can’t.  It’s great that he’s okay with me being a girl, and frankly I wish all transgender kids could get a parent who’s even half as decent as my dad, they should get that acceptance that he’s giving me.  But I’m not just a girl, I’m a boy too.  And if it was hard to only be a boy and hide the girl side at home, it’s going to be harder to only be a boy outside and only a girl at home.

 

And the thought of living through that mess without Peter to help keep my head above water doesn’t bear thinking about.

 

“Stiles,” He pulls his hand away from Mel and stands up, “No, you’re coming home with me too.”

 

“No, dad, I’m not.  I don’t know where I’m staying, or how I’m going to get on with my life, but I’m not going to live under your roof. I can’t dad. I just can’t,” I can’t, I don’t think I’d survive it.  Maybe I could live with being one gender and hiding the other, I’ve done it this long but it’s killing me slowly.  Maybe I could survive only seeing Peter from a distance until I’m eighteen.  In reality I think it would break something in me.  I’m just not strong enough to shoulder all of this on my own.

 

“Stiles,” Dad steps towards me so I step back.  “Stiles you can’t be serious about this.  You have nowhere to live. No job. Please don’t do this.  Please come home.  We can talk, really talk, I will listen.  I’m sorry I’ve been talking over you.  I wanted you to know that I love you, that I accept you, and I know I’ve screwed that up, again.”

 

He holds both of his hands out, even the bandaged one, “Please.”

 

Standing back I wrap my arms around my middle and hunch up.  God I want to go to him.  I want my dad.  I need my dad.  I never want to go through losing him, ever.

 

“Stiles, you said you were male and female. And I only heard the things Ms Morrell said, but then she’s never spoken to you about your gender.  And as the Sheriff I know better than to take evidence at face value, I should have done my own research, I should have followed up on what you told me.  I should have listened to you,” he takes a few steps closer and I want to throw myself at him.  “Please Stiles, I will do better in the future, I’m sorry I’m not handling this well.  I’d never heard of Bigender before you, the department is behind on all the training, I’ll make sure things are brought up to date at the station too.”

 

“You really don’t mind that I’m Bigendered?” I ask him and almost hold my breath, because I thought that was the problem, I thought he couldn’t accept me, but it could just be a misunderstanding.  He might be listening to me. He might still care about me.

 

“I really don’t mind,” he says and I shudder in relief, “You’re still my Stiles, though listening to how Derek and the other werewolves name you, I guess you got upgraded to Stiles Stella.”

 

“Daddy,” I whimper and rush forward to be engulfed in one of his hugs.

 

“God Stiles, I was so worried.  I’m so sorry.  We shouldn’t have fought like that.  I never want to lose you Stiles, you’re my world.”  We cling to one another and he adds, “I don’t know what I’d do without you Stiles.”

 

“Dad,” God I don’t know what I’d do without him either.

 

“Come home Stiles, please.  Just come home,” He’s shaking slightly and I want to, I really, really, want to, but there’s just one thing stopping me.

 

“Dad, I can’t, please, I’m sorry.  I can’t if you won’t let me see Peter,” I try and disentangle myself from dad, he holds on to me and won’t let me go.

 

“No, Stiles. Not him. I can’t. I can’t let you do that to yourself. He’s too old for you. He’s a proven murderer.  I can’t just stand there and let you fall for his lies so he can hurt you. I never want to see you get hurt.  And that’s all he’s going to do to you.  He’s not capable of being what you need, and that’s not your fault,” Dad says as I try and fail to get away from him.  “I promise I’m listening to you Stiles. I promise.  But I can’t see how that monster is capable of being anything but wrong for you.”

 

“Dad, please, I promise that this version of Peter’s different.  The people that murdered his family are dead, he’s no longer insane.  He’s not trying to kill people anymore, he’s helped save people, admittedly one of them was Jackson so that wasn’t a huge win.  He’s helped me too, because of him I know what I am, I’m Bigender, I’m not a freak, I’m normal.  There are more people like me out there,” I try and reason with my dad, maybe this is something he can accept, like my gender.

 

“Yes he’s bought me clothes, but he’s made some too,” that might not have been the best thing to say as dad’s face closes down.  “He’s completely obsessed with sewing now, he has books full of designs, he pesters the rest of the Pack to try and make them clothes.  He’s made dresses for me, altered others, shown me how to wear a wig, and helped me embrace the girl and boy sides of myself.”

 

Dad isn’t buying it, oh god, he’s not buying it, “And it’s because of Peter I have a Pack.  Because of him I got to join the Pack.  I wasn’t alone anymore dad.  And now Derek’s teaching me to dance, proper ballroom dancing.  Isaac’s called me pretty and threatened to defend my honour.  Boyd is just Boyd and he’s happy to let me chatter at him.  And Erika wants to have sleepovers,” his face softens a little bit.  “I have more friends in my life than I’ve ever had, even before mom got sick, even before all the panic attacks and the stuff afterwards.”

 

I think I’m starting to get through to him, “And I’ve only recently realised how I feel about Peter.  I’ve been so messed up in my head, drowning in things I haven’t had a chance to work out yet, I didn’t even see it, I was totally blind to it and he behaved impeccably, not one single moment did he try anything.” Dad is totally sceptical about that.  “Yeah I wouldn’t have believed it either, but the moment I worked it out he was careful to point out why we couldn’t do anything, and why we’d have to tell the others in the Pack, so they could chaperone us. He wants to do it properly.  He wants us to get to know each other before I’m old enough to do anything else.  Dad, please, just give him a chance.  Please.”

 

“Stiles,” Dad’s head drops and presses against my shoulder as he sighs, “How the hell am I supposed to just stand there and watch him molest you?  I’ve seen the crime scene photos of his murders.  I’ve been called to too many domestic violence scenes, interviewed too many victims of emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse.  Stiles, please, please don’t ask me to let you walk into something like that.”

 

Someone coughs and Peter’s voice floats over, “Well Jon, I can see why you’d be so concerned about Stiles Stella, but you are missing a few vital pieces of information.”  Looking over I can see him walking out of his room.  “For instance, Stiles Stella is my main anchor, think of Scott and Jackson with their anchors.  I can hear Stiles Stella’s heartbeat for miles, I can smell that amazing scent whenever the wind changes slightly, I can hear that fascinating voice drift towards me.  And I assure you that even thinking of causing harm to my wonderful Stiles Stella makes me physically ill.”  He’s standing by my side now and he smiles at me, I may melt just a bit and smile back a goofily.

 

“And you heard Stiles, we’ve already talked about that pesky law, and how we need to take it easy, to protect both of us.  Also Stiles Stella is still discovering exactly who Stiles Stella is, it’s best not to confuse the issue with other things,” he moves closer and slides an arm around my back, incidentally touching dad’s arms, dad may jump a little but he doesn’t let me go. “As long as Stiles lives, whether with me as a significant other, or just as a friend if Stiles Stella does not feel that same way as I do, you have nothing to fear from me.  The only thing I need, even more than I need air, is Stiles Stella.”

 

Dad is glaring at Peter and I know this isn’t going to work, he’s going to get angry again and they’ll get into a fight.  I try and push away from dad again, but he’s still hanging onto me, and then dad leans towards Peter, “Hale, if you ever, ever, harm my child, you are going to wish you were dead long before I let you die.  If there is one person in this whole world I would break any and all laws to protect, then that person is Stiles.”

 

“Good,” Peter beams at dad, “Then we have the same goal.  And I’ve been thinking about your clothes.  I know you practically live in your uniform, but have you considered moving away from plaid?  I know Stiles is practically addicted to the stuff and it’s clear where that came from, but there are other things out there, and I’m happy to do some sketches for you.”

 

“What?” Dad frowns but it’s more confused than wanting to kill Peter.

 

“Clothes Jon, I’m talking about your out of work wardrobe. I can make you a very dashing suit for when you take Melissa out on a romantic date.  I’ll tailor it to you of course, and the cut will be exceedingly flattering, she’ll be the envy of every woman that’s ever given a thought to pursuing you.”

 

It’s kind of amusing to watch dad have to deal with a clothes obsessed Peter, a Peter whose smile gets bigger, and more predatory, “Of course I expect Chris to chaperone Stiles at those times, just to be on the safe side you understand.”

 

I narrow my eyes at Peter, he’s being too helpful, he’s so up to something, but it’s a something that might just get me him, so I let it slide.

 

I’m close enough to see dad’s jaw clench and he grits out, “I’ll agree,” my heart lurches, “But only on a probationary term. I don’t trust you, I don’t like you, and I think you’re going to hurt Stiles.  Don’t you dare prove me right.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Peter says calmly and turns to me, “Well my dear Stiles Stella, it seems the last hurdle barring your way is now gone.  Will you agree to go home with your father?”

 

I nod dumbstruck at getting my dad’s acceptance of being Bigendered, and also access to Peter, I don’t care if it’s supervised, he’ll be there. 


	42. Chapter 42

Sitting on the couch between dad and Mel I quietly seethe.  Well outwardly I laugh and enjoy the crazy that is Big Bang Theory, but inwardly I seethe.  Peter’s sitting in the arm chair and being good.  Scott’s curled up in the other arm chair with Allison.  We’re having a family night tonight.

 

I should be doing a damn victory dance right now, because Peter was not only invited to family night, dad hasn’t even tried to take any of his guns out and cleaned them where Peter can see them.  In fact dad is playing nice, warily, but he is doing it.  And then he stuck me next to him and pointed to the arm chair for Peter.  Peter didn’t argue just took his seat and watched TV with us.

 

Scott gets to snuggle with Allison, but I’m not allowed to do that with Peter.

 

It probably wouldn’t have upset me so much if yesterday I hadn’t had to go to a damn Pack meeting.  A meeting held at Lydia’s.  The same meeting that Lydia managed to control enough that she got people to stop talking about how her and Jackson were going to be punished, and instead shifted it back to the person poisoning the werewolves.

 

No one else seems to have noticed that she did it.

 

So I’m seething that I can’t sit next to Peter and let him sooth me, because I have dad in my life, and I have Peter in my life.  I just need some time to enjoy it.

 

We did walk away from the meeting with names of people to check, and a few plans to start crossing off names.  I also noticed they’re keeping Derek away from the people, something about plans and Derek not mixing.  I don’t think he was that upset, he’s not that good at being underhanded, plus he tends to stick out wherever he goes.

 

Between episodes I volunteer to get more drinks.  In the kitchen I’m careful not to slam things around.  If I can show dad that I’m more than happy with obeying all his rules for seeing Peter, than he’ll start to trust us, and I’ll get even more Peter time.

 

Carrying in the drinks I endure more bonding and hang onto the fact that dad did invite Peter.  Things are getting better, I just have to last long enough.  I laugh through the jokes and at the end I don’t fight when dad hints that it’s time for Peter to go home.  Peter gets ready to leave, we hug, in front of witnesses, and then I have to let him go.

 

I smile pleasantly at Allison as she and Scott go to his new room, and I don’t sigh when the door closes. Instead I go to my room and do homework, and I go to bed at a reasonable hour. I then spend an hour texting Peter, he’s as annoyed as I am that he couldn’t stay, but he’s hopeful that dad is coming around because he got the invite for family night.  He also noticed Lydia’s manipulations so we’ll both keep an eye out.  It’s nice to have someone on my team for a change, someone who’s watching out for me too, and then Peter says he’s halfway through my new dress and life is looking even more up for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini filler chapter, plus, I’m running so far behind on my fics right now, tomorrow’s is in danger of being a day or two late. Sorry, year end is manic in my department. (Yes we are still doing year end in Feb it’s going that badly).


	43. Chapter 43

Leaning back into Peter’s chest I keep reading my text book as his voice curls into my ear, I never knew History could be so seductive.  He’s behaving as we’re in my living room with the rest of the Pack cramming for Finals that aren’t for a few months.

 

We’ll we’re cramming early.

 

With all the shit that’s happened in Beacon Hills over the past year we’re playing catch up.  To the point that Derek is coaching Scott with almost everything, Peter is helping with the AP stuff for me and Danny, and the rest are working with Derek, Peter, my dad, Mel, and Chris on as many subjects as we can.

 

Lydia is coaching herself and Jackson refuses to admit he might ever need help, so they’re sitting on their own.  It does mean that I get to enjoy cuddling with Peter and no one can say anything.

 

I’ve been anxious about my school plan and not being ready for the end of the school year, this is helping me enormously, and with it being lighter for longer in the evenings, I can go for runs with the Pack some evenings too.  I’m back on the team and playing in all the games, for some reason everyone thinks I’m this amazing player and MVP of the school.  Peter isn’t impressed with Lacrosse but he has taken the time to learn the game and he’s been spying on our opposition, it means we have yet to lose a game.  At the rate we’re going the Championship will be ours.

 

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Isaac trots into the kitchen.  Another bonus to a mass Pack study meeting is Isaac’s cooking.  The boy can cook.  He’s not so great on the intellectual stuff like Lydia is, but give him any recipe and he’ll make a masterpiece out of it.  Dad’s already suggesting catering career paths and Isaac is sort of looking into them.

 

Of the other werewolves the one that most surprised me is Boyd, turns out he’s an artist.  Give the guy almost anything and he’ll make art out of it.  Well he’ll stare at it for a while and then he’ll make art.  Erika has even relaxed enough that we find out she’s obsessed with numbers, and she does most of the work on her families budget, to the point that she wants to go on to be an accountant of all things.  I’m not sure the accounting world is ready for Erika.

 

When Isaac says dinners in five we start packing away the books.  We no longer have anywhere in my house big enough for a dining room table, so we sit on the floor, or the couch, and eat there.  The big Pack house is nearly finished.  Apparently the workmen and decorators have all agreed to do extra overtime, for free, if Derek promises to keep Peter away from them.  Peter sulked for a few days and has been making Derek’s life a living hell pestering him for videos of the place each day.

 

I’ve seen the video of my room.  It’s almost finished.  They’ve done all the painting and it looks even better than he described, the blending of the wall colours where they meet at the corners, and the geometric shapes are fantastic.  My bed is huge.  Dad’s face got a weird tick when he found out that I’m Pack human and will be taking turns sleeping with all the wolves, but the teens got so excited about sleepovers in my room he’s trying to trust us all that it’s purely platonic.

 

Eating dinner means I can’t stay curled in Peter’s arms, so I plaster myself against his side.  If our elbows bump, neither of us says anything, and neither of us moves.

 

We get more studying done in the evening and by the time everyone’s ready to go home, I’m almost ready to stop cuddling Peter.

 

Almost.

 

I do let him go, reluctantly, and with the promise I’ll be seeing him tomorrow for a surprise at the apartment.

 

Puttering around clearing up I hum to myself.  Rounding up the last few stray glasses I put them on the counter next to the sink for Mel and grab the cloth so I can dry.

 

“Someone’s happy,” She smiles at me and carries on washing up.

 

“Hmm,” I agree and start picking out the driest things so I don’t have to do as much work.  “Today was most agreeable.  The mix of company, food, and strangely the learning environment, all melded into a truly pleasurable experience.” 

 

I’m not often Stella at home, but she slips out now and again, both dad and Mel were a bit startled but are doing their best to not treat me any different regardless of my gender at any given moment.

 

“Uh-huh, and it wouldn’t have anything to do with you doing your best to glue yourself to Peter, now would it,” Mel isn’t Peter’s biggest fan, and she has taken me aside and given me one hell of a long winded speech about men and what they often want from women.  She also said she’s happy to get her hands on mountain ash and wolfsbane if he does anything to upset me.

 

“I fear I know nothing of what you speak of,” I tell her loftily, “The warmth and strength of my boyfriend’s arms had nothing to do with adding to the sheer awesomeness of my afternoon.”  I try and act as innocent as possible but then the giggle slips out and we both laugh at the sink.

 

“Whatever you say kiddo,” she pulls the plug and drains the sink, “So long as you know you’re not fooling anyone young lady.”  She starts to put the plates away, “Oh and I hope you’re looking forward to your surprise tomorrow.”

 

No one will tell me what it is, they just smirk at me and even Peter is refusing to tell me. All he said was that I’d enjoy it, that it would make me smile, and Derek sort of hovered behind him looking nervous.

 

I spend the next day at school practically vibrating in place.  Luckily it’s Friday again and I practically run for the door at the end of the day.  At home dad is waiting for me and he has his serious face on, “Okay one quick talk in your room before I tell you part of your surprise.”

 

Following him up the stairs I brace for the worst.  These talks almost always end badly.  He asks if he can sit on my chair and I wave to it as I fall onto my bed.  “Okay Stiles.  I’m going to do my best to listen to you okay.  If I start talking over you please throw a pillow at me or something.” He wrings his hands together, “Oh god, this is harder than I thought it was going to be.  Right,” he clears his throat nervously. “Both you and Peter have been obeying all the rules, neither of you are trying to break them, and I’ve been speaking to Derek about the time Peter went to him, so that Derek could chaperone you.”

 

Oh god, dad’s going to forbid me from seeing Peter again.  Oh god not again, I’ve just started to feel good about myself again.

 

“And that just backs up everything you and Peter have done as a couple.  You’ve again proved how much of an adult you’re being.  You’ve thought about the consequences, not only to you, but to Peter.  And because of that I’ve agreed that you can have a sleepover at Derek’s tonight. If you want to.”  He gives me a stern look, “I’m trusting you Stiles Stella.  I’m trusting you to keep doing the right thing.  If anybody asks about this in the future, you were chaperoned at all times by Derek, got it?”

 

I nod quickly, “Yes dad, Derek was there the whole time,” and does that mean that Derek might not be there the whole time?  That I might get alone time with Peter?

 

“Good,” He breathes out, “So get a few things packed and you can drive over to Derek’s.  If you want to, you can stay there tonight, and tomorrow night, as well as all day Saturday and Sunday.”

 

My jaw has dropped open and I stare at him in shock, I have to be dreaming right now, this can’t be real.

 

Before he can say anything, or change his mind, I scramble off the bed and start grabbing clothes so I can stuff them into a bag, “Right I’ll leave you to it, oh and we’ll be right behind you going to Derek’s, we want to see your face when you get the second half of your surprise.”  There’s more to my surprise?  “Don’t forget your toothbrush Stiles,” He grins at me, “And don’t kill yourself coming down the stairs.”

 

I’m too busy trying to make things fit into my bag as I rush to listen to his advice and I have to run back up the stairs for my toothbrush.  With dad, Mel and Scott in Mel’s car behind me I have to drive so sedately I may as well go backwards.  Parking up I jump out of my jeep as my family gets there too.  Dad takes my bag and ushers me in front of him.

 

The ride up in the elevator takes an eternity, the hall to Derek’s door is staggeringly long.  And then I find my Pack waiting for me, well there’s no Jackson or Lydia, but I don’t really think of them as Pack.

 

Peter’s all dressed up, he’s got black pants, waistcoat, and jacket.  His shirt is white, but there are bronze-brown accents all over his clothes.  His face lights up when he sees me and he glides towards me, “Well are you ready for the rest of your surprise Stiles Stella?”

 

Everyone is staring at me expectantly and I nod nervously.  They all gather to one side of Peter’s bedroom door and my mind goes blank at what this could be.  Opening his door with a flourish Peter stalks in and there’s something on his bed, he holds it up and it’s a dress.  A dress in cream and bronze, from his sketches I know it’s made of silk and covered with lace, and the sketches don’t do it justice.

 

“Peter,” I breathe it out, “It’s beautiful,” and I both want to wear it now, and I want to never wear it because it is so damn perfect.

 

“It’s only as beautiful as the lady it graces,” he says with a smug expression, which does somewhat spoil the flowery sentiment.  Gently he puts the dress down on the bed and walks towards me.  Pull the door ajar behind him he holds his arms out and I kind of throw myself at him.  “You like it then.”  It’s not even a question.

 

Nodding into his neck I don’t have the words, “Thank you, just thank you Peter.”

 

It triggers off a Pack wide mass hugging and I get teased a bit about my reaction but everyone is happy.  Other than Peter, I’m the only person to see the dress, they really were here just to see my face when I saw it for the first time.  They’re also not hanging around, any of them.  Isaac cooked dinner and it’s sitting in the oven staying warm.  They’ve all got plans this evening, even Derek.

 

I stand there holding Peter’s hand as my dad gives me one last nod before he walks out of the door and suddenly I’m alone with Peter for the first time in what feels like an age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late.
> 
> This is the closest I can find for the lace part of the dress, it’s the wrong colour, and cut too low, but hopefully it will give you an idea: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/55661745365437299/ , this is closer to the colour though the cut is wrong and it’s a bit insipid: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/55661745364304030/ .


	44. Chapter 44

Holding Peter’s hand I stare at the door of the apartment in stunned amazement.  Dad has willing left me with Peter, alone, with no one to chaperone us.  And apparently he wants me to lie and say Derek was with us the whole time.

 

“Breathe Stiles Stella,” Peter’s voice sinfully fills my ear and his hand gently squeezes mine.

 

“I’m breathing,” I point out and ignore the fact that my breathing was a bit erratic.

 

“Good, now are you ready to try your dress on?” He asks and tilts his head waiting for me to answer him.

 

“Um, yeah?” Oh god, I can try on the dress, the dress Peter designed and made for me, the one that Derek bought the materials for.  Except I’m still trying to work out what dad’s angle is about all of this.  Why is he suddenly okay with me being with Peter?

 

“You know I can practically hear you thinking, right?” Peter sounds more amused than anything.

 

I give him a look, and then ask, “Don’t you find it strange that my dad is suddenly giving in and letting me spend time alone with you?”

 

“I did, but then I’ve had time to observe you, and I can smell how your dad reacts around you,” He moves to open his bedroom door and tugs me to get me to follow him.  “Listening to the others you’re starting to slip back into your obsessive homework behaviour, all do you is homework or exercise.  They have to make you stop and relax.  Long gone is child who would spend hours gaming, or watching TV, or goofing off with Scott.  Your dad is worried about you.  And he’s noticed that you only stop this obsessive behaviour when I’m around, you come back out of your shell and interact with the world.”

 

Scoffing I try and refute what he’s just said, but I haven’t really done anything except homework and working out.  Peter’s close enough that I get to see the unbelievable sight of his eyes softening, “It’s okay Stiles, I’ve been doing similar things, though my coping mechanisms seem to be orientated towards nesting, what with all the clothes designing, and homemaking I’m getting involved in.”

 

Gently his hand lets go of mine and then his arms are sliding around my waist, “Your dad came to see Derek a few days ago, I did my best to eavesdrop but I got kicked out of the apartment.  I didn’t want to go and Derek practically picked me up and carried me outside, he did let me keep my sketch book so I could go sit in a coffee shop and keep myself occupied.  When I got back Derek surprised me with your dad’s offer of a sleepover. I have a long list of things I can’t do or your dad will neuter me, but there are some things that are now open to us.”

 

I don’t even get a chance to wonder about what those things are because Peter’s kissing me.  He pulls back and studies me, “Was that okay?  I didn’t hurt you? I didn’t push you into something you’re not ready for, did I?”

 

Shaking my head I try to file away how it felt to be kissed.  How his lips pressed against mine.  His body right there.  It was good.  It was really good.  So I kiss him and he kisses me back, those hands of his tighten on my waist, and I watch his eyes close.  Resting my hands on his shoulders, I fist my fingers in the material of his jacket, and hold on as the world spins a little and I hear him groan gently.

 

We stand there kissing, our lips break apart for bare seconds before we go back to melding our lips together.  It’s shockingly gentle. I always thought it would be frantic, hurried, and desperate.  Not this loving, careful, worshipfulness.

 

“Stiles Stella,” He mutters and continues kissing me.  My toes curl as one of his hands caresses up my back and settles between my shoulder blades.  There’s another deep groan from him and he pulls back, his breathing is deep and he’s sort of panting, when his eyes open languidly I can barely make out any blue as they’re swallowed by his dilated pupils.

 

Stepping back from me he rubs a palm of a hand over his face and instead of nails, he has the start of claws, “Oh I knew you’d be amazing to kiss,” he says gruffly, “But,” he tips his head to stare right at me, “I didn’t dream it would be that good.” He almost seems dazed, or drunk.  “I’ll leave you to get changed, there’s your new dress, your other dresses are hanging in the wardrobe near my clothes, and I still have the t-shirt I made you and the suit.” He shakes his head and actually staggers to the bedroom door.  “I’m sorry but I may need Derek to chaperone us after all.”

 

I’m still reeling from his kisses but I make a token protest, he leans on the wall and adds, “Stiles Stella, I pride myself on keeping control, but I just won’t with you, your lips, your scent, your everything, I can’t.”  He opens the door before I can say anything and vanishes through it.

 

Standing there all I can do for a few minutes is bring my fingers up to my lips and touch them.  Wow.  Just wow.  No wonder people go nuts to make out with each other.  The phantom sensation of Peter’s hands on me makes me shiver and I shut down those thoughts as quickly as I can.  I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to have sex.  I’ve seen porn, I’ve googled other stuff, so I know the mechanics, it’s just the female side of me is throwing me, I don’t know how to cope with that when my body doesn’t ‘fit’ the traditional female side of sex.

 

Lifting my dress off the bed I take it into the bathroom, along with the underwear Peter’s left there.  It’s a bigger pile than I’m used to but I shrug it off so I can go stand in his shower and freak out about the fact that I’m that good a kisser Peter had to get a chaperone in.  I’ve spent years being ignored by potential other halves, and now this one is so into me he’s had to go and calm down and call his nephew in.

 

Yes part of me is aware that Peter is dangerous and I shouldn’t be doing the equivalent of a victory dance in his shower, but at the same time, not only did he back off, he admitted I’m totally desirable, me, Stiles Stella Stilinski.  He liked kissing me so much he said I was more than amazing. It makes me feel kinda powerful, naughty, strong, and like I’m worth something.

 

It also gives me an erection and I know I shouldn’t, but I wrap my hand around myself, and use that gorgeous smelling shower gel to lubricate the area.  In my head I hear the groans he made, I can feel his lips on mine, the way his body was so hot as it pressed against mine, his hand sliding up my back.  Stifling my own moans I can’t hold back the whimpering sob of his name as I cum in his shower, knowing he’ll smell this, that he can probably hear me too, his werewolf hearing allowing him to listen in on me even through two closed doors.

 

Trembling under the spray I let it wash me clean and I stumble out of his shower.  Towelling myself I pick up the underwear he’s gotten and then freeze in surprise. He’s bought me hosiery.  Not just any hosiery, he’s bought me stockings, and a garter belt.  It matches in with the cream of the set and the stockings themselves have leaf patterns on them.  I have no idea how to wear them, I mean how do you even put a garter belt on?  Deciding to leave that for the time being I stick with the bra and panties. 

 

I’ve been researching various tucking methods, and frankly most of them require me to put tape on to hold everything in place, the thought of ripping the tape off brought tears to my eyes.  There are other techniques, but I’m going to have to practice them first.  Keeping to my usual method, and it’s not that effective, but it will do for now, and frankly it’s only going to be me, Peter, and Derek, so while I hate the fact the lines will be wrong and it will show I’m male, at the same time, I know they won’t judge me for it.

 

I’m getting faster with the bra and panties and I take time to admire myself in Peter’s mirror.  The material is mostly smooth with detail worked into the material itself.  I’m unsurprised when the shapes are leaves on the material.

 

Taking a deep breath I spend a few minutes wiggling into my new dress.  It whispers over my body, the cream silk sheath should be confining, or shapeless, but he’s put tucks and nips in and it fits me.  I have to peer through the lace layer at it but the combined effect is breath-taking, this is so far from my original first dress that it’s like comparing a three year old’s finger painting to a masterpiece.

 

The material puddles around my feet but I can walk freely without tripping.  Hurrying to Peter’s room I head straight for my wig.  He hasn’t put anything in the hair this time.  He’s clearly brushed it and left the hair to fall freely down, but then I spot the tiara sitting nearby and it’s in a bronze coloured metal with a few clear stones in it.

 

Caught up with staring at it all  I can think of is that I’d be a princess wearing her crown, only I can still feel the buzz of Peter’s obvious and overwhelming desire for me.  No I wouldn’t be a princess, I’d be a queen.

 

The wig is easy to do and it’s strange when the hair curls around my neck, normally Peter puts it up for me.  Lifting up a hand I wind a lock of hair around my finger and grin to myself, I’ve always wanted to do that, and now I can.

 

“STILES!” And that’s Derek’s voice, swiftly followed by someone banging on Peter’s door, “STILES!”

 

Oh god, something bad must have happened.  I run for the door and I’m forced to grab the front of my dress to hold material up, walking in this is fine, running is another story.   Yanking the door open I get to see a wolfed out Derek standing there, he pushes into the room and I have to step back.  His hands grab my arms, oh so gently considering how red his eyes are burning.  “Stella, are you okay?” He’s taking deep breathes and sniffing me.

 

“I’m fine Derek, what’s wrong?” Oh god, please don’t let it be dad, please let him be okay.

 

Visibly relaxing Derek shudders out a breath, “Peter phoned, he said I had to get here immediately, that you needed someone to chaperone you. He mentioned almost losing control,” he’s still stiffing me like he’s checking me for injuries.

 

Oh.  Derek was worried about me.  This is so different from the man I first met in the forest, and the man that slammed me into walls, and the man that shredded my dress in front of me and mocked me.  The pain from him doing that is still there, it still aches, but it doesn’t stop me lunging forward and hugging him tightly, “Derek, I swear that I am more than well.  Peter and I were kissing, and my kisses were too much for him, he had to retreat and hide from me.  Has he recovered?  Is he well?”

 

Stiff in my arms Derek pauses and then nods, “He’s fine now, he’s sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee, though his scent’s all over the place.” The arms that come around to hug me back are so very tentative, and after he gives me an awkward pat we break the hug.

 

“Perhaps you would be so kind as to escort me to the kitchen?” I ask Derek and he nods pointing towards the open door.  I nip back to get my tiara, no, my crown.  And then I deliberately put my hand between his arm and his body as if he’d offered his arm to me.

 

The red has completely faded from his eyes and its fascinating when his eyes do the same softening thing that Peter’s did.  He puts his other hand over mine and pats it as his mouth quirks but doesn’t smile.

 

Peter is sitting at the little kitchen island counter.  He seems calm enough but his hand trembles when he picks up his cup to sip from it.  His eyes keep flickering electric glowing blue and then fading to normal blue again.  Those same glowing eyes widen when they see me and frankly they rake up and down me.  The cup in his hand suddenly shatters and he’s showered in coffee and cup fragments.

 

“Peter!” I go to run towards him but Derek is faster and he holds me back.

 

“Uncle Peter, are you okay?” Derek has put himself between me and Peter.  “Do I need to take Stella somewhere safer?”

 

Growling Peter ineffectively paws at his clothes, “My pride is injured far more than I am Derek.  And Stella Stiles is safe from me, for now.  She’s simply irresistible to me though, and I’m hoping that increased exposure to Stella Stiles will give me greater control.  At the moment I’m forced to spend too much time away, it causes my cravings and needs to expand beyond my abilities to hold them back easily.”

 

Standing up he waves his hands at his front, “If you’ll excuse me, I will get changed.”  He blows me a kiss, “Give me a chance to clean up and I promise I’ll help you with your tiara.  You’ll be a truly enchanting and breath-taking princess.”

 

“No,” I shake my head, “Not a princess,” I stand up straighter, “A queen, or an Empress.”

 

Throwing his head back Peter bursts out laughing, I’ve never seen him do that before, not this freely, not this joyfully.  “As you wish my Queen,” he even does the full bow to me and adds, “You already rule my heart.”

 

Melting into a gooey puddle I watch him strut, and the man does strut, to his bedroom door, he blows me one last kiss and I sigh as I lean into Derek.  A Derek with a slightly pained expression and he looks like he’s holding his breath.

 

“I’ll heat up your dinner,” he says and I’m left to start setting up the table for three while we wait for Peter.  I’m fairly sure Peter’s going to take forever, because it’s Peter, and he’s always so careful to put himself together before stepping out into the world.

 

Fussing over the few things on the table I keep glancing at my reflection every time I pass a shiny surface.  The surfaces aren’t the best for seeing myself, but they’re enough for me to see this gorgeous feminine creature float past.  I may even twirl just to see mirror me do the same.

 

“You look really beautiful,” Derek tells me.  He’s lurking by the kitchen, I can hear the oven working in the background.

 

“Thank you,” I flush and stare down at the floor for a few seconds, then remembering my status as Queen, I look up at him.  “And thank you for paying for my dress, I love it,” I just have to twirl again.

 

I’m getting used to Derek and his not speaking ways, he hunches in on himself and won’t quite look at me, “I’m sorry about your other dress.  I was so sure you and Scott were working together.  I know better than to ignore my ability to smell emotions and I did that anyway.  I can never take back what I did.  I’m really sorry Stella Stiles, it won’t happen again.”

 

When Peter told me about my new dress, I thought that would be the extent of Derek’s apology, that he would go out of his way to accept me, to make a safe space for me, and then give me a dress I could rule the world in.  He’s so bad at talking, he hoards his words, and for him to do this, it’s a big thing, the right thing.  I’ll never forget what he did to me, how he made me feel that night, but I can at least accept his apology and work on forgiving him.

 

“I cordially and gratefully accept your apology Derek.  I can see from all your actions since, that you have fully changed your mind, that you see me as I really am, and in attempting to defend me you do care for me,” I walk towards him and he almost turns away from me, “Thank you for apologising, it does mean a lot to me that you’d do that.”

 

He half shrugs, he’s not good with emotions that aren’t rage and anger, “Thank you.” I initiate another hug, he’s just as awkward this time as well.

 

Dinner is a little stilted, but I do have my crown on my head now and I bask in the admiring glances Peter sends my way, and strangely, the way Derek’s shoulders untense, he even gives a few insipid half smiles.  It helps that Peter isn’t sniping at him as much either.

 

Having gotten his hands on Firefly, Peter easily persuades me to come and watch it with him.  Sitting between the two men I relax completely.  Derek is holding my hand, which should be weird as I’m also sitting next to my boyfriend, who happens to be his uncle, but Peter has his arm slung over my shoulders and I’m cuddled into his side.  On screen the crew of Serenity are engaging in their antics, in the real world I’m being buffeted by raw contented happiness from both sides and from inside.

 

God I had no idea how awesome just hanging out with Derek and Peter was going to be.  I don’t have to watch anything I say, or do, or want.  Peter’s proved he wants me, like really wants me.  Derek has tried to protect me, not that I need protecting, and even admitted he was wrong and that he’s sorry.

 

When bedtime rolls around all of us are yawning.  They let me use Peter’s room to get changed.  Peter digs out some new pyjamas for me, but I swipe one of his t-shirts when he has his back to me and then I retreat to the bathroom.  Stepping out of my beautiful dress is a bit depressing, I want to wear it to bed, doing homework, housework, cooking, just to flit and float about the house in, I want to wear it forever.  Hanging it up I mentally promise myself to wear it again tomorrow for as long as possible.  I’m not sure if I can sleep in a bra so I take that off and add it to my list of things to ask, exactly how do women cope with all this stuff?  Is there a manual for it at all?

 

I do leave the panties on and untuck myself, it’s a squish, and I’ll have to look into better panties for me.  Pulling on my new pyjama bottoms I check them out in Peter’s mirror.  They’re deep green, he’s gone for as ungendered as he can get.  I finish it off with his black t-shirt.  Pressing my nose into the material I can smell him so clearly I know it’s going to rub his scent into my skin and then linger for days.

 

Stepping into the bedroom I find Peter already in the horrible nightwear with surfing penguins on it.  I’m startled that Derek is also there, he’s wearing running shorts and one of those ridiculously tight t-shirts he works out in.

 

If I thought hugging Derek was awkward earlier, this is a whole new level of awkward, because I end up cuddling Peter, and being cuddled by Derek.  Burying my nose in Peter’s neck I let the familiar, and missed, feeling of him in my arms help me fall asleep.  I drown in the combination of mine and their happiness and float off into dreams.


	45. Chapter 45

Spending an entire weekend with my boyfriend, and his nephew, as well as various members of my pack, and my awesome dress, has had a few unforeseen consequences.

 

Like how Derek has taken to sidling up to me and then looking anywhere but at me.  It’s his way of asking for a hug without actually asking for a hug.  He still stiffens in my arms and has yet to hug me back, the only way I know he’s enjoying the hugs is because Scott can smell he likes them.

 

Dad has also lifted a lot of the restrictions on my relationship with Peter.  This has meant that I’ve had a chance to curl up on my bed with Peter every few evenings, and we’ve been able to kiss for short periods of time, he’s still working on his control.  We’ve also taken to swapping t-shirts, it’s been helping Peter cope with not seeing me all day like Scott and Jackson can do with Allison and Lydia.

 

Overall I’d say my life is improving. 

 

My family is getting used to me as Stiles Stella.  My grades are so high my teachers aren’t so grumpy at me when I struggle to concentrate in class, though Mr Harris is still being weird to me and has patted me on the shoulder a few times.  Coach thinks I can do no wrong, and he knows me, so I think he’s banged his head and this is just his way of showing brain damage.  The only time I’ve ever been this happy was when my mom was alive.

 

I’ve been kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.  For life to realise I have it too good, but the last two weeks have been heavenly.  Any time I get down I now know there’ll be an upside, a good thing that will happen. 

 

That I’m allowed to be happy.

 

It can’t last, we still have someone trying to poison the Pack, a someone we’re not finding.  We’ve gone through background checks, gathered evidence, even hacked security systems to watch from the cookies being made, to them being delivered at school.  Having eliminated most of our suspects we’re having to build a new suspect pool.

 

Sitting on Lydia’s living room floor, I have my back to the couch, and Peter between my legs.  He’s leaning back into me and I wrap him in my arms, even as I rest my head on the side of Derek’s knees.

 

A little distracted by Peter playing with my fingers I’m only half listening to the discussion going on and then something gets my attention.  They’ve just eliminated half of the school because they’ve always lived here.  “Whoa,” I barge into the conversation, “That’s not going to work.  You can’t just assume that someone who’s always lived here is innocent. The Hales used to live here and they’re majorly supernatural.  Deaton lives here and he’s a vet and a druid too.  Everyone is suspect until proved otherwise.”

 

Nodding Deaton says, “That’s a very good point Stiles.  Whoever this assailant is, they are clearly aware of the supernatural and how to harm werewolves.”

 

The names are put back on the board and Peter kisses the tips of my fingers.  Across the room Lydia’s face screws up and she turns away from us.  Tough.  I know what Peter did was terrible, if he’d done it to me, I’d never be able to forgive him, and I’d want his head on a stick.  And I know he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with what he did, but the thought of harming him makes me feel sick.  So I’ll try and keep him away from Lydia so she’ll never have to worry about him again, she’ll be safe from him, she can hopefully heal and not have him ruin parts of her life.

 

Not much else gets done so we leave, and dad turns to Peter and Allison to ask, “We’re having family dinner.  You’ll be there?”  And my day just got better.  We’re even allowed to go to my room afterwards for unsupervised snuggling.

 

For some reason Peter prefers to little spoon, or if we’re face to face, he’ll try to tuck himself under my chin and curl into me as much as he can. Currently I’m flat on my back with Peter wiggling and getting comfy, he’s trying to find the perfect spot for his head on my shoulder.  Chuckling at him I try not to move too much or he’ll have to start again.  A big huffing sigh, followed by him going limp, lets me know he’s finally found the right spot.

 

“Better?” I grin at my ceiling.

 

“Yes,” he slides a hand over my stomach and then curves it up to rest on my chest, he may also grip the material of my t-shirt in that hand too, not that I’m likely to run away from him.

 

“Good,” I don’t even bother trying to inch my hand up to ruffle his hair, that only ends up with him growling and barring his teeth at me.  The only time the hair ruffling is allowed is when he already has bed hair, then he’ll actually lie there and let me rub his scalp.

 

“You smell happy again,” He says into my shoulder, “Except briefly earlier, it had something to do with Lydia.”

 

Trust him to notice that, “Yeah, I was thinking of asking you if you could please stay away from her.  You did hurt her, badly, and even though I’m ridiculously in love with you, I’m not blind to what you did Peter.”

 

Lifting his head up he gives me his most innocent expression, “Stiles Stella, I promise that as long as she doesn’t hurt you, or me, I will leave her alone.  I’m not that interested in her anyway, she’s even more self-absorbed than I am,” and that is saying something.  “And I love you too.”

 

My heart pitter patters pathetically at his words and my grin gets bigger, I give him a strangled “Cool,” and try and play it off as calmly as I can.  Except he just said he loves me and all is well in my life, in fact every time he says it my day gets brighter.

 

“You know I can hear your heart beating? Right?” He’s snuggling back down, “Anyone would think you like hearing how much I love you.  How amazing you are.  How you make my days better,” and the bastard moves so his ear is over my heart as he says those things to me.

 

Laughing at him I get buffeted by smug pride and contentment.  He’s enjoying making me laugh.  “Oh Peter, as long as you realise how much I love you too, and how much you make me happy.”

 

I used to be shit scared of Peter, for good reason, he was an insane homicidal killing machine of death and horror, and now he’s closer to being a total puppy.  The wave of surprise followed by sheer happiness buffets me and I can’t hold back the delighted huff of laughter at it.

 

His mouth presses against mine and there’s a thread of hunger from him.  Grasping his v-neck in my hand I hold onto him and lengthen the kiss.  When we do break from it I can’t help the lopsided smirk I give him.

 

We might still be hunting for the poisoner but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my time with Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to start angsting again, but screw you season 3, just screw you, you leave all my bbs alone, ALL of them. For now have some flufflier feels, I think we all need them. I’m going to sit in a corner and rock sadly to myself (damn you Dylan and your amazing acting).
> 
> Oh god I’ve just seen the promo too, damn you Teen Wolf, let him survive getting shot, just please. Urgh. Why isn’t it Monday yet?


	46. Chapter 46

I’m so excited.

 

My knees are jiggling like crazy and I can barely sit still in the back of Mel’s car.  Scott laughs at me, “We’ll be there in a minute Stiles Stella.”

 

A minute is too long.  I want to be there now.  The new Hale mansion is finished and ready for occupancy, this is our version of a house warming party.  And I really want to see my room.  My room with the clothes that Peter has made for me.

 

We park up next to Chris’ SUV and I bound out of the car.  Ambling up to the front door I take out my key and hold it up with a flourish, only to find out that the door is unlocked anyway.  It still counts, I still have a key to the house.

 

Even seeing the videos and pictures doesn’t prepare me for the finished effect and my jaw drops.  You can so tell Peter had a hand in most of this.  It’s over the top and airy in the main foyer area.  But at the same time it’s warm. And as if thinking about him summoned him he’s there and walking towards me smirking and waving a hand at the mansion, “Do you like it?”

 

I fall back on flailing and nodding, he seems to understand, “Oh, speechless, that’s a good sign.” He presses a kiss to my cheek, “So shall we do the big tour?  Leaving Stiles Stella’s bedroom for last?”

 

“Why last?” Damn it that’s my new room.

 

“Because,” is all he says and I stomp along beside him until I’m too fascinated by the house to get upset.  This place has everything, including a games room with various consoles and a custom built storage unit for the games and controllers.  “Awesome,” I can envisage many hours spent playing with the other pack members.

 

“Wow,” Scott drifts over and prods a bit of the unit, it clicks and then slides smoothly to one side to reveal a bunch of DVDs.

 

“Huh,” Dad’s eyes are wide and he looks around in stunned amazement, “And Derek designed most of the house layout?”  I didn’t know that.

 

“Yes,” Peter nods happily, “He’s shown a surprising knack at understanding light placement, through traffic, and balancing that with effective usage, you should see the kitchen.  Isaac spent an hour just patting things and gloating.”

 

I should have realised that would lead to us standing in the kitchen.  A kitchen a very gleeful Isaac is showing off to Mel, dad and Chris.  We end up leaving them there and Peter almost drags me to go and see his sewing room.  As I know how obsessed he is with sewing, I was ready to fake enthusiasm, it’s not needed, because he’s tricked out this room as much as the rest of the house I’ve seen so far.  He’s as gleeful about this room as Isaac is about the kitchen.

 

Indulging him and his over the top enthusiasm I let him rave about everything and I can see him spending hours and hours in here.  He has amazing views of the back garden, and it is a garden, as well as the beginning of the forest out there.  The hands that caress his sewing machine are gloating and reverent, he has so many plans that he’s telling me about that I lose track of all of them.

 

Eventually dad and Mel find us and we have to go and look at the rest of the house, but Peter’s so happy he’s almost walking on air. 

 

The rest of the first floor is just as amazing, we have a small pool, with jets to swim against. A party area. A giant living room with ridiculous giant TV to go with it and surround sound system.  I spend most of the time stunned and covetous of this place.

 

We do wind our way up the main staircase and I finally get to see the bedrooms.  Derek and Peter have done their best to personalise our bedrooms and it’s something to see Isaac’s face as he stares around himself knowing that this is his, just his, and he’s safe here.

 

Danny, Erika, and Boyd love their rooms too and are looking forward to sleepovers.  I notice that there’s a room put aside for Boyd so he can paint and an area is supposedly put aside for Erika in the library and it will house the graphic novels she loves.  Derek’s room is set in shades of burgundy and he has a giant tub in his ensuite as well as a big bookcase in his room.  I can see the appeal of reading in the bath and hide my grin at the grumbles he’s had at only having a shower at the apartment.

 

By comparison Peter’s room is really plain.  He has an entire wall made up of a built in wardrobe, a bed, and that’s it.  Even his ensuite is plain and simple, the only thing marking it as his are his toothbrush and a few odds and ends.

 

My room is left until last and I’m almost vibrating as we go to see it.  Outside my door Peter puts his hands over my eyes and I can hear someone open the door.  His fingers move and I can suddenly see.  I stand there stunned and just take it all in.  The walls are cream and brown, two of each, and where they meet in the middle, or rather in the two corners, each colour blends out into the other’s wall in different shapes.

 

Drawn to the closest corner I stare at the shapes, yes the geometric ones are there, but nestled inside some are other shapes.  Some are just curves and arcs, others are things like flowers and butterflies.  I think some are stylised elements like fire and water, that one could be air, and that’s a bolt of lightning.  Running my fingers over the shapes I realise it’s going to take time to track all the different ones here.  And this is just one corner.

 

The few pieces of furniture in my room are made up of pale coloured wood and there are painted shapes on them too, the paint is the brown and the cream tracking across and blending in.

 

I eye up the bed and shake my head, where the hell did Peter manage to find a bed that big?  He must have hit up every website that sells orgy sized beds, because we could easy get the whole of the pack on that bed with room left over.

 

There are three doors leading from my room, one is a glass one leading to what looks like a small balcony outside. One more to the left and one to the right.  I head to the right one as it’s near the glass door.  Peering through that door I can see a small balcony area giving a very nice view of the back of the property, in summer I bet I could sit out there for hours and bath in the sun in any of my clothes, and I will never have to worry about anyone not in the Pack seeing me. 

 

Wow.

 

Just wow.

 

They meant it, they really meant it. I can be Stiles or Stella and it won’t matter. Not here.  The only people that will be here are my pack, and they accept me for me.

 

Refusing to give into the burning in my eyes I check out the right hand door and find a small neat little office area.  It’s kitted out with some bookshelves, a nice little couch, though really is more one of those big squishy sofas you fall into and can never quite get out of.  The cream and brown theme is strong in here soon and I can see me sitting and doing homework or research for hours in here.

 

Retreating I head for the other door.  Behind it is a huge walk in wardrobe with a path cut through the middle of it.  In fact the whole wardrobe is almost a maze with every single space saving device ever designed for a wardrobe. Or that’s how it feels to me.  The cream and brown are background colours for the pale wood shelving.  There are places for shoes, for long hanging things, were my dresses are currently hanging.  There’s a place for wigs and one of them is holding my wig.  Drawers and mirrors and a small seated area with a hairbrush and a jewellery box I’ve never seen before.

 

There’s also another exit and I pad through that into a big bathroom.  The main feature seems to be a giant tub in the middle of the room and I know Derek likes bathing but I didn’t Peter did.

 

The others have followed me and Isaac whistles, impressed, and then adds, “Why is there a disco in the shower?”

 

A disco?  Confused I drag my eyes away from the bath to see he’s right.  The big walk in shower is twinkling with different lights, the effect is very similar to disco lights.

 

“It’s not a disco,” Peter walks over and puts his arm around me, “They’re therapeutic lights, they enhance the shower experience.”

 

We all give him a long look and then turn back to the disco lights in the shower, Erika gets closer and then nods, “Nope, totally disco lights.  We’ll get you a disco ball shower gel bottle and you’re good to party in here.”

 

Danny joins her and grins at me, “Party at Stilinski’s!”

 

Most of us laugh, while Peter sulks, and he’s adorable.  I still take time to whisper to him, “It’s all perfect.  Thank you Peter.”

 

“You’re welcome Stiles Stella,” he moves closer to cuddle me, “I want you to know you always have somewhere to go, you’ll always have a home, no matter what.”

 

With the last room out of the way we stampede downstairs and start in on the food.  That’s quickly followed by rampaging teens running through the house.  We probably sound like a herd of elephants thundering up and down the place.  We really do have a small disco moment in my shower and show off our dance moves under the lights before collapsing on my bed and laughing.

 

By the time we leave, because we have school in the morning, my face hurts from all the smiling.  And we’ve found the plans Derek and Peter hid from us, the plans that have dad, Mel, Scott, Allison and Chris on them.  The plans that show if they ever wanted a room of their own, there would be one.  I’m not a hundred percent sure how I feel about that until Scott nods and says, “Thank you,” to Derek, “I know I have to earn it first, but just, thank you.”  It’s all topped off with a really awkward shoulder pat from Derek.

 

Just because I can I sweep Derek and Scott into a hug, they both freeze for a second and then Scott’s hugging back too.  A weight wraps itself around my back and then the other teens all join in.  Erika doesn’t even growl at Allison, so that’s progress.

 

Leaving Peter, Derek, and Isaac to enjoy their new home and to finish grabbing the last few things from the apartment we go home.  This car journey is just as filled with excitement and I’m still fidgety.

 

At home dad steers me to his office, for a few seconds I think I’ve done something wrong but he just hugs me, “Stiles Stella, god your room, it was amazing.”

 

“It was wasn’t it,” I smirk at him, “And I’ve got a disco in my shower.”

 

His laugh shakes his whole body, and me too, “Yeah, though you didn’t see Peter’s face when Isaac said that, your boyfriend was not amused,” and he’s just called Peter my boyfriend.  “What I really wanted to say, was that you can stay over there as often as you want, just make sure you can alibi yourself with a chaperone, I don’t want to jeopardise anything for you later on okay?”

 

 “Okay,” Somehow I refrain from doing a giant happy dance on the spot.

 

“And I wanted you to know my intentions towards Melissa,” Dad gives me a weird look, “I know you’ve grown up with her nearly always around, and in some ways she’s been a kind of step mom for a while.  But,” he takes a big breath, “I would like to ask her to marry me.  We won’t do anything until you and Scott have graduated high school and hopefully gone on to college and finished that too.”

 

“Wow,” I don’t know why I’m surprised and then I grin because I’ve seen first-hand how happy Mel makes him, and how happy he makes her.  “Congrats dad, just congrats.”

 

“You’re really okay with it?” He sounds a bit worried.

 

“Yeah, I’m really okay with it,” I tell him, and I am.  I know that Mel cares about me, but she also won’t try and make me call her mom or anything, she’ll just love me and that’s good enough for me.  I firmly ignore the fact that this might mean that Scott gets my dad too because I refuse to let anything ruin this moment.

 

“Thank you,” He hugs me harder, “Though I have to say I was a bit surprised you only have one wig Stella, I would have thought you’d have a batch of those coloured ones, like those cartoon characters you like so much.”

 

“Anime dad, it’s called anime,” He always calls them cartoons and then I freeze because part of the reason I’ve liked some of the anime is the hair, the long, pretty coloured hair.  Can I really get wigs like that and still be taken seriously as a girl?

 

“Sorry,” He’s grinning at me, “Anime then.  At least you wouldn’t have to dye your hair to get those colours.  Though Jackie was showing off pictures of her eldest, Sharon, and the girl has managed to get a rainbow of colours put in her hair somehow, and it looked amazing.”   I get another big squeeze off of him and he lets me go, “And Stiles Stella?”

 

“Yes father?” I wonder what kind of coloured wigs there are out there, and just how nice they are, I don’t want something that looks bad.

 

“I was wrong.  And I’m sorry,” Makes me blink because I don’t understand where that just came from.  “I was wrong about Peter and how he feels about you.  I’ve seen married couples with less devotion than he shows you.  And you?  You kiddo shine around him. God you remind me of your mom so much the way you light up when you see him.  As long as he never hurts you, I’m butting the hell out.  You need me for anything, anything at all, because I know this is your first relationship and they can be harder to navigate than you think, you can come to me or Mel and we’ll help you.  Oh and while school is on he can’t stay overnight on school nights.”

 

I’ve spent most of the day being stunned at the house and now I stand there and gape at my dad, he just looks at me, “I know the pair of you aren’t there yet, but when you are, and dear god please let that be months away when you’re more than eighteen, you can sleep in the same bed with him here or at the Pack house.”

 

“Thank you father,” I hug him tighter this time, “Thank you.  You do not understand the depths of joy that your acceptance of our union gives me.”


End file.
